Vacationing in 1878
by Jem Voodoo
Summary: Simon Lewis' day is pretty ordinary - for an indestructible vampire, that is - until he touches something that belongs to Magnus and is sent back to 1878. Trapped there with no means back to his own time, he realises that he will have to spend the next century and a half with Magnus. Simon Lewis' day sucks. [Set before City of Fallen Angels and Clockwork Princess]
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own The Mortal Instruments or The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

It was a heavy, clammy April evening and although Simon Lewis didn't technically have a body temperature to speak of, his t-shirt was still sticking to him. It was one of his favourite t-shirts, one given to him by Clary, about a year before he had been bitten. Ironically it had a picture of Count Dracula and a caption beneath saying 'I vant to suck your blood!' on it. He had just left band practice –the only thing normal left in his life now- and was making his way to Magnus Bane's apartment, where he had been asked to go by Clary with no other explanation than 'It's important'. To say that Simon didn't like Magnus would be an understatement. The glittery warlock couldn't even be bothered to remember his name and he was the reason he was a vampire in the first place. If hadn't been for his stupid colourful drinks at his party, Simon would never have been transformed into a rat, never been kidnapped by vampires and therefore, never would have become a vampire. Admittedly, a badass vampire that could walk in the sun and couldn't be killed because of the Mark of Cain, but still, a vampire nonetheless. A _thing_ despised by his own mother. But of course, Clary had asked him to come, so of course, he came.

He reached the door to Magnus' building and pressed the buzzer.

"Who is it?" Asked Magnus' voice.

"Simon." He replied.

"Ah yes, the Daylighter. Do come in." The lock clicked, allowing Simon entrance into the building. He walked up the stairs until he came to Magnus' front door, which was already open. They lights were off and the apartment was eerily dark. Simon reached for the light switch on the wall, unable to bear the darkness any longer.

"Surprise!" Came a shout. Simon stumbled backwards and his fangs shot out in shock. Then he took in the sight before him. Everyone was there: Alec, his arm around Magnus' waist, Isabelle, smiling at him, Jace, looking fairly disinterested and Clary, beaming at him, holding a large birthday cake in her hands. Simon blinked for a few moments, unsure if what he saw was actually happening.

"Well, say something Simon!" Squealed Clary.

"Um...Today's not my birthday." He said cautiously. "That was yesterday, if you wanna get all technical with the details. Plus the whole 'vampires don't age' thing kind of makes birthdays pointless." Clary rolled her eyes at him.

"You wouldn't've been as surprised if we had your birthday party on your _actual_ birthday Simon!" She said, as though it were obvious.

"Great reasoning, Fray." Said Simon, still recovering from the shock of being ambushed by a group of more-than-capable Shadowhunters and an extremely powerful warlock.

"Dude, just say 'thank you' and hug her already. She's been excited about this for weeks." Said Jace.

"You've been planning this for weeks?" Asked Simon, astonished. Clary blushed.

"Well, yeah," She said. "You're my best friend Simon, and after the year you've had I thought you'd welcome a little fun. But if this isn't what you want, I totally understand and we can leave -" Simon cut her off by wrapping his arms around her, perhaps a little stronger than he had intended to.

"Thanks Clary," He murmured in her ear. He pulled away from her and saw that the huge smile was back on her face.

"Now, if you could just put away the fangs vampire-boy, we could finally get this party started!" Said Magnus, obviously eager to start the festivities. Simon hadn't even realized his fangs were still out and retracted them. He heard Magnus snap his fingers and before he knew it, he was engulfed in a cloud of glitter. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get the glittery substance out of his lungs. He glared at Magnus, who countered with a grin.

"Just thought I'd mark the start of the festivities," He said. The others laughed while Simon scowled.

* * *

The party lasted well into the late hours of the night. Though Simon wasn't generally one for parties, he had to admit, he was enjoying himself, just a little bit. It wasn't hugely flamboyant like one of Magnus' parties, it was just a good time spent in the company of friends –more or less anyway. It was almost midnight when Magnus addressed Simon.

"Daylighter, could you please go and fetch me that silver snuffbox on the mantelpiece?" He asked.

"Why can't you just get it yourself?" Simon asked.

"Because you're closer," Said the warlock lazily. Simon sighed, resigned, and got to his feet. He walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up the small silver box with the initials _W.S._ engraved on it. He turned to hand it over to Magnus, but stopped mid-step. A strange lurching sensation overcame him –the same feeling you get on a roller coaster. The floor seemed to be slipping from beneath him. He looked up, panicked, and met Magnus' strange cat-like eyes. The warlock didn't make a move to help him and just winked at him instead, a mildly amused look on his face. Suddenly Simon was catapulted into darkness. As the pressure grew, his ears popped. He felt like he was being squeezed through a small tube. He was grateful he didn't need to breathe, because he was fairly sure there was no oxygen in the darkness. Simon felt as though he was about to explode, when suddenly, there was a blinding white light. Simon fell face first on a cold, hard floor. He could hear gasps in the background.

"What on earth..." He heard a voice say. It was a woman's voice and she spoke with an English accent. Simon rolled on to his back, blinking away the black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He sat up and looked around, trying his best not to faint from dizziness. There were six people standing around him, three men and three women. They were all looking at him with expressions of shock on their faces. Now, Simon wasn't up to date on English fashion, but he was pretty sure they had moved on since the Victorian age. The people surrounding him were all wearing old-fashioned clothes. The three women were wearing complicated-looking dresses, while the men were wearing suits. Simon tried to get to his feet, but stumbled, almost crashing into the shortest of the women –almost as short as Clary, Simon's dazed mind noted. A pair of strong hands caught him and held him steady. Simon gripped the arm of the red-headed man that was holding him, not letting go for fear he would collapse.

"Easy there boy," Said the ginger man. Simon clung to his arm for a few moments before letting go when he thought he could stand on his own. The ginger man gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"What are you doing in the London Institute?" Asked a tall boy with dark hair and blue eyes. "State your business." Simon blinked. What was he doing in the London Institute?

"William, let the boy regain his senses before you start questioning him," Said the short, brown-haired woman.

"I-I don't know what I'm doing here," Simon managed to say. "I don't even know how I got here. I was in New York just a few seconds ago, I -" An idea suddenly occurred to Simon. "I need to contact the New York Institute!" He said, not addressing anyone in particular. "The Lightwoods, I need to speak with them." Simon noticed a few of the people bristle at the mention of the Lightwoods.

"Did Benedict Lightwood send you here to spy on us, little boy?" Asked the blue-eyed man. Something about him seemed familiar, but he wasn't quite sure what.

"I-What?" Asked Simon, frowning. He had never heard of Benedict Lightwood in his life. "Please, I don't know who Benedict Lightwood is, I need to contact Isabelle and Alec. Their parents are Maryse and Robert." The ginger man, the short woman, the blue-eyed boy and a boy with silver hair all frowned at him. The two others, a tall girl with brown hair and grey eyes and a shorter woman with a long scar running down her cheek, just looked at him, confused.

"I do not know any Lightwoods that go by the names Isabelle or Alec, do you?" Said the blue-eyed man, turning to the short woman and the ginger man. The two both shook their heads. Simon was starting to feel dizzy again.

"Sir, please kindly explain what you are doing in my Institute and your strange attire at once." The short woman said. Just as he was about to explain that he really had no idea what he was doing in the London Institute, a thought occurred to Simon. His mouth went dry at the very thought.

"Excuse me," He said. "But what year is this?" The woman looked taken aback, but answered him nonetheless.

"1878, of course." She replied. Simon's suspicions had been confirmed. He was going to kill Magnus when he got back to 2008.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm going to kill him," Simon muttered under his breath, now pacing back and forth. "I'm going to kill him,"

"Excuse me," Said the silver-haired boy, speaking for the first time. "Who, exactly do you plan on killing?"

"Magnus Bane," Said Simon. His head was bowed, so he didn't see the reactions of the people watching him. They all turned to each other frowning. "Stupid, sparkly, pretentious warlock." Simon spat under his breath.

"While I'm sure no one would object to you murdering Magnus Bane, we would certainly like to know why." Said the blue-eyed boy.

"You're Shadowhunters, right?" Simon asked.

"We're not," Said the tall girl. She gestured to the girl with the scar beside her. "Sophie is human. And nobody is quite sure what I am." She blushed slightly when she spoke of herself, as if she didn't like the attention. Suddenly, without warning, the ginger man took a step forward and pinched Simon's arm.

"Ow," Said Simon, looking down at where the man had pinched him. "What was that for?" He asked with a scowl.

"I was merely checking you weren't one of those dreadful automatons," He said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Automatons?" Asked Simon.

"Surely you've heard," Said the short woman. "The Clave has been informed of our situation, thus all Shadowhunters must know," Simon let out a short burst of laughter.

"You think I'm a Shadowhunter?" He asked.

"Aren't you?" Asked the blue-eyed boy.

"Of course I'm not a Shadowhunter," Said Simon. "I'm a vampire," At this they all recoiled.

"But how are you in the Institute?" Asked the silver-haired boy. "It is hallowed ground,"

"I'm a good vampire?" Simon said hesitantly. The blue-eyed boy snorted and withdrew something from his pocket. Before Simon could react he was slammed against the wall with a seraph blade at his throat.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand," Said the blue-eyed boy. Simon gulped.

"Because that would be really bad for you," Simon said.

"Explain," Said the boy menacingly.

"I can explain everything, but it's quite a long story," Said Simon.

"William, release him," Said the short woman. The blue-eyed boy, William, took a few moments before doing as she said and removing the seraph blade. "We shall go to the library and the vampire shall tell his story there."

* * *

The library was much like the one at the New York Institute, from what Simon could remember from his few visits inside. Everyone was sat on couches or armchairs with the exception of William, who was standing by the door, no doubt guarding it in case Simon tried to escape.

"I think introductions are in order," Said the short woman, putting down the cup of tea she had been sipping. "My name is Charlotte Branwell. My husband and I run the London Institute. This is my husband, Henry," She gestured to the ginger man sitting beside her. "He is something of an inventor." She said in a tone that was either endearing or wary.

"My name is James Carstairs," Said the silver-haired boy. "And this is my fiancée,"

"My name is Theresa Grey," Said the brown-haired woman with an American accent. "But please, call me Tessa,"

"And I am William Herondale," Said the blue-eyed boy from the door. Herondale. That meant that this was Jace's ancestor. Simon let out an involuntary snort. William raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, at least now I know why you're so familiar," He said. William raised his eyebrow again, but Simon didn't elaborate; it would be even more complicated if he told things out of order.

"Right, well, I'm Simon Lewis," He resisted the urge to make some Dungeons and Dragons related joke, since without Clary, no one would understand, much less if Dungeons and Dragons didn't yet exist. "And I was born in 1991." He said. They all looked at him with disbelief.

"Impossible!" Said the short woman, Charlotte.

"Not so much," Said Simon. "See, my friends decided to throw me a surprise birthday party at Magnus' and when he asked me to pass him an old snuffbox, I got thrown back in time."

"But that doesn't explain how you can enter the Institute as a vampire." Said James.

"Right," Simon said. "So, my best friend, Clary, she was a Shadowhunter, but she didn't know it. Eventually she discovered what she was but that wasn't the end of it. Her mother had run away from her father when she was pregnant, because he was completely nuts and had experimented on their first child, Jonathan. He had infused Jonathan with demon blood and Jocelyn couldn't bear the thought of that happening to her second child, so she left before he found out she was pregnant. Unfortunately, he had already started experimenting on her. He had been feeding her angel blood." At this William snorted.

"Angel blood?" He said. "That's impossible!"

"Wait until I've finished, then tell me what you think is impossible," Said Simon challengingly.

"Let the boy finish his story, no matter how farfetched, before you start discrediting him, Will," Said Charlotte. Will rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Right, so, Clary had already been infused with angel blood, but no one knew about it. Then Clary realised she could create runes,"

"I'm sorry, but this is insane!" Said Will.

"Insane, but true," Said Simon. "That was a result of the angel blood in her veins. So, when I was in danger, Clary did something to protect me. She marked me. With the Mark of Cain." Simon pushed back his fringe with trembling fingers to show them the mark on his forehead. They all leaned forward to get a better look. Simon didn't like so many people watching him. Sure he had performed in front of large crowds with the band, but this was different. This was on a much more personal level, this felt like showing these strangers a very intimate part of him.

"Incredible," Murmured Charlotte. Unable to take the staring any longer, Simon let his hair fall back into place and cover the mark.

"Also, when Valentine, Clary's father, had captured me and almost killed me, Jace gave me his blood to save me. As a result, I can walk in the sun." Their eyes widened.

"Who is this Jace?" Asked James, the boy with the silver hair.

"Jace is," Said Simon, trying to find the best way to describe Jace to these people without making things unnecessarily complicated. "Well, he's a Shadowhunter. He thought he was Michael Wayland's son, but then we found out that Valentine had actually killed Michael Wayland and taken his place. When Jace was ten, Valentine faked his death, _again_, and Jace went to live with the Lightwoods in New York. Jace became really close with the Lightwood children, Alec, Isabelle and Max, and even became Alec's parabatai. Then, Valentine returned to the city, kidnapped Clary's mom and revealed that Jace was his son and that Clary was his daughter, which was really bad for them, 'cause by then, they'd fallen in love. Then, during the huge battle in Alicante, where Shadowhunters and Downworlders were allies against Valentine, we discovered that Valentine had lied, and that the boy posing as Sebastian Verlac was the _real_ Jonathan Morgenstern and that Jace and Clary weren't related. Jace was actually the son of one of Valentine's old followers, who died before Jace was born. Jace's mom –who was pregnant with Jace at the time– tried to kill herself when she found out that her husband was dead and Valentine found her and rescued Jace before he could die. He raised Jace and turned him into one of his experiments, feeding him angel blood too."

Simon paused for a moment to see if he had completely lost them or if they were still, miraculously, able to follow his story. They were all staring at him open-mouthed. Charlotte gestured him to continue. "So, in summary, Jace went from being Jace Wayland, to Jace Morgenstern, to Jace Herondale, to Jace Lightwood. Lightwood, because he considers them his real family, not because there's any biological link to them. Oh, and he's dating Clary, is considered one of the best Shadowhunters of his age and is a royal pain in the ass. Just thought I'd throw that in there." He looked up again. They were all looking at him astounded. "That is pretty much the_ short_ version of who Jace is."

"A Herondale is considered one of the best Shadowhunters of his generation, you say?" Said Will, from the by the door, smirking as he spoke. "Hardly surprising. Is he also considered outstandingly handsome?" Simon noticed James roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye.

"He would probably say so," Said Simon. Will grinned.

"Good to know that my talents make it through the generations," He said.

"Speaking of," Said the ginger man, Henry. "You don't happen to know any Branwells in the future, do you?" Simon shook his head apologetically.

"But I only know a handful of Shadowhunters," He said. "I mean, Clary's mom's boyfriend Luke was called Graymark before he changed his name to Garroway when he became a werewolf and opened up a bookstore in Manhattan." This earned him few odd looks. "And Jocelyn used be a Fairchild, I think, before she married Valentine." At this Charlotte and Henry's eyes widened. "What?" Asked Simon, worried he had said something to upset them.

"Fairchild is my maiden name," Explained Charlotte.

"Oh," Said Simon, unsure what else to say. He suddenly realised how tired he was. He tried to stifle a yawn, unsuccessfully. Charlotte's eyes softened when she saw him. She smiled at him.

"I shall have Sophie prepare a room for you," She said. "Tomorrow we shall pay a visit to Mr Bane and see if he can assist us in returning you to your own era,"

"Thank you," He said. She nodded at him and smiled again. Simon was led to a room very similar to the empty ones in the New York Institute. He kicked off his trainers and collapsed onto the bed and was asleep in under a minute. Hopefully he would wake up tomorrow in his own bed, in his own century, and all this would just be some wacky dream. Hopefully.


	3. Chapter 3

Simon awoke feeling groggy. It took him a while to realise he wasn't in his own bedroom, and a little longer to remember what had happened last night. The realisation that he was stuck in Victorian London with no means of returning to his own time suddenly hit him. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He walked through the corridors and down several flights of stairs before coming to the conclusion that he was lost. He doubled back and tried to retrace his steps, resulting in him being even more lost than before. He sighed and opened a door at random. Inside was what appeared to be someone's bedroom. Simon noticed personal belongings placed around the room, including a violin sitting on an armchair. He also saw a seraph blade lying on the mantelpiece and realised he must be in one of the Shadowhunters' rooms. Hoping it wasn't Will's, Simon turned to leave the room, almost jumping out of his skin when he saw the person standing behind him. It was the silver-haired boy from last night, James. He was looking at Simon, not in the angry way most people would have reacted to finding someone lurking in their bedroom, but in the fascinated way someone looks when they look at something the don't understand. Noticing Simon's shocked demeanour, he said, "I apologise for startling you," Simon's eyes widened. This guy had just found him snooping around in his bedroom, and _he_ was the one apologising?

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't know this was your room," Said Simon. "I woke up and started wondering around and I ended up kinda lost," James smiled at him.

"Understandable," He said. "A place this big takes some getting used to," Simon nodded. "I was looking for you; Charlotte thought you might have difficulty finding the dining room,"

"Thanks James," Said Simon, as the silver-haired boy started leading him down the stairs.

"Oh, please," He said. "Call me Jem, everyone does," Simon smiled at him. It was nice to know that there was at least one nice person here in the Institute. From what he could tell from last night, the others like Tessa, Henry and Charlotte had seemed quite nice too, but he wasn't sure if they completely believed his story. Will certainly hadn't made a show of hiding his disbelief. But then again, Will was a Herondale, and from what Simon knew from personal experience, Herondales didn't exactly go out of their way to be likeable.

They somehow ended up in the dining room; Simon had done his best to try and remember their route for future reference, but had given up halfway and had resigned to following Jem. The others were already sitting there, Henry was alternating between eating toast and tinkering with a small device that looked remarkably like the thing that Isabelle, Jace, Alec and Clary always had on them that detected demon presences, Simon couldn't remember what it was called. Charlotte was drinking tea from a priceless-looking teacup, as were Tessa, Will and a girl who looked an awful lot like Will. Her long dark hair reminded Simon of Isabelle and he felt a pang of homesickness. He must have been staring, because Will was glaring at him. He quickly averted his gaze. He sat down at the table and Tessa gave him a warm smile. Jem took a seat beside Tessa and helped himself to a cup of tea.

"Would you like some?" He asked Simon, holding the teapot up. Simon had never really drunk tea, he had always been more of a coffee enthusiast, but thought it would be rude to refuse.

"Uh, sure," He said. Jem poured the hot liquid into another teacup, which he placed on a saucer and pushed it towards Simon. Simon picked up the cup and took a sip. The tea burned his throat and he realised it would probably be better if he waited for it to cool. He choked and put the teacup back in the saucer and on the table. The female-Will gave him a look that was a mixture of sympathy and amusement. Simon gave her an unsure smile.

"Ah, Simon," Said Charlotte, placing her tea on the table. "Allow me to introduce you to the newest addition to the Institute, Cecily Herondale, William's sister. You arrived shortly after her." The girl, who Simon now knew was called Cecily, smiled at him. "We have explained your situation to her,"

"Okay," Said Simon. "Actually, I was wondering, do you guys, you know, believe me?" He bit his lip nervously. Charlotte frowned.

"While your story does appear rather preposterous, you do not seem a liar," She said. Simon let out a relieved breath and gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks," He said. She smiled warmly at him again. She had a very motherly feel about her, Simon noticed. She looked too young for any of the people in the room to be her children, besides, none of them looked remotely like her or Henry, but whenever she looked at them Simon was reminded of Maryse when she set her eyes on Alec, Isabelle or Jace.

"We have arranged a meeting with Magnus Bane," Said Charlotte. "He should be here this afternoon," Simon nodded and tentatively took another sip of tea, this time without scalding his throat. "In the mean time, I propose finding clothes more suited to this era," Simon frowned and looked down, realising he was still wearing his Count Dracula t-shirt and jeans. He looked up at the others and realised he stuck out like a sore thumb in their presence.

"I guess I _do_ look a little...conspicuous," He said. He heard Will snort. He looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"A little?" He said. Simon scowled at him, which Will countered with a grin.

* * *

After breakfast Jem and Henry had escorted him to a bathroom, where a tub of hot water was already waiting, along with some clothes that they had found that were most likely to fit him. After they left, Simon reluctantly removed his jeans and Count Dracula t-shirt. They were the only things he had that linked him to Clary and the 21st century. He got into the bathtub and scrubbed the bar of lavender soap over his body, washing away the sweat and grim of last night. When he was done, he stepped out a dried himself with a towel that had been provided before setting about putting on the clothes that had been left for him. They were slightly oversized, which came as no surprise –he was rather skinny and these clothes had previously been owned by a no doubt muscular Shadowhunter.

The outfit consisted of matching grey trousers that were held up by bracers and a waistcoat that Simon wore over a white linen shirt. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up so they didn't cover his hands, and omitted the grey jacket. He laced up the leather shoes, and although they were a size too big for him, they were surprisingly tight and rigid, compared to his usual Converse trainers. He neatly folded his old clothes and placed them on the chair alongside the grey jacket. Before he turned to leave the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and was startled by what he saw. He almost hadn't recognized himself. Yes, his hair was still messy and fell into his eyes, but otherwise, he looked like he had just stepped out of one of the historical movies his grandmother liked to watch. He blinked once and took in his appearance one more time, before turning and leaving the bathroom behind. He walked down the corridors until he found a room that he recognized; the library. He stepped inside and saw that Tessa was sitting there reading a book. She looked up as he entered.

"Oh, sorry," Said Simon. "I didn't know there was anyone here, I'll go," He turned to leave.

"No, wait," Said Tessa. Simon stopped in his tracks and turned around again. "Come, sit," She said, patting the place beside her on the couch. Simon sat down next to her. "Your clothes suit you," She said.

"Uh, thanks," Said Simon. He wasn't sure what else to say. For a moment they sat in silence, then,

"Tell me about your life," Said Tessa. "About your friends and family. What is the future like?"

"Uh, well," Said Simon, unsure of where to start. Before he could speak, the door opened behind him. He spun around and saw Will and his sister, Cecily, standing in the doorway.

"I was showing Cecily the Institute's library," Said Will. Simon noticed something in his eyes whenever he looked in Tessa's direction. To anyone else, nothing would appear out of the ordinary, but to Simon, who had had to endure weeks of Clary and Jace looking at each other like that, he knew exactly what it meant. Will was in love with her. He was in love with her, and he couldn't have her.

"Please excuse us if we are intruding," Said Cecily.

"Not at all," Replied Tessa. Simon might have imagined it, but she was firmly not looking at Will, either focusing on Cecily or on a spot just above Will's head. "Simon was going to tell me about his life in the future,"

"That sounds fascinating," Said Cecily. "Could we join you? Or, Will, if you have other plans, you don't have to stay," She said, hesitantly. It was strange watching Will and Cecily together, Simon noted. They didn't behave like brother and sister, they behaved more like acquaintances.

"No, we'll stay and listen," Said Will, sitting down in one of the armchairs. Cecily sat down beside Simon, so that she was seated on his right, Tessa on his left. "Go on vampire," Said Will. "Tell us your story."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well," Simon said, painfully aware of the three pairs of eyes watching him. "I was born on April 10th 1991. I have an older sister, Rebecca. My dad died when I was eleven." Simon allowed himself a few seconds to compose himself. He didn't talk much about his father as it was a painful subject. "I've known Clary since I was five; she's my best friend." The thought of her bought a smile to his face, which didn't go unnoticed by Tessa.

"Why are you smiling?" She asked.

"I'm just remembering the first time I met Clary," Said Simon, still smiling at the memory. "We were in kindergarten –a place for little kids," He added, noticing the confused expression on Tessa's face. She smiled at him gratefully. Simon realised they probably had a hard time understanding what he was saying most of the time. He silently vowed to try and speak more like them for their benefit in future. "Anyway, she was playing with the paints and some jerk spilt them all over her and she started crying, more out of frustration than anything else, I think. So I walked over to her, took the paint and poured it over myself. She stopped crying and started laughing, and we were friends from that moment on."

"That's a very sweet story," Said Tessa.

"Yeah," Said Simon. "So, one night we were in this club she liked to go to, when she saw some kids with knives going into a supply closet. I couldn't see them, but I went to get security anyway. When we found her alone in the supply closet, I thought she was going crazy, seeing things. As it turns out, she wasn't, and the people she had seen were Shadowhunters –Jace, Isabelle and Alec. A few days later, we were in a cafe, when all of a sudden, she got up and left. I didn't see her for a few days after that and I nearly went out of my mind worrying about her. But then, when I was hiding in Luke's bushes -long story- Jace landed on me, shortly followed by Clary, who explained everything to me. Her mom had been kidnapped, Jace was a Shadowhunter and he was helping her. So they took me back to the Institute where I met Isabelle for the first time," He smiled again, and, again, Tessa noticed.

"You are smiling again," She stated. Simon probably would have blushed, were he able to.

"Um, yeah," Said Simon, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is there a romantic connection between you and Miss Isabelle?" Asked Cecily, speaking for the first time since Simon had started his story. Simon may have been imagining it, but there was a slight bitterness in her voice.

"Not really," He said hesitantly. He wasn't sure what he and Izzy were. Not to mention Maia. Cecily seemed to relax again and flashed him a small smile. Will glowered at him. Simon cleared his throat and continued his story. "So, we found out that Clary had a block in her mind, and she and Jace went to the Silent Brothers, to try and get her memories back. It didn't work, but she did get a name: Magnus Bane. That night he was hosting a party, and Isabelle had an invitation, so we went. While Jace, Clary and Alec were speaking privately with Magnus, I was 'dancing' with Isabelle. Then I drank a blue drink and got turned into a rat." Tessa and Cecily were looking at him with wide eyes, unsure if he was telling the truth, and Will was laughing. "Yeah, okay, not my best moment." Muttered Simon, feeling the non-existent blush against his cheeks once more. Will was now laughing so hard, tears were forming in his eyes. Simon scowled at him and he raised his hands in mock-surrender. He wiped a tear from his eye.

"Please, continue," He said, attempting to sound serious.

"Magnus said the spell would eventually wear off, so there was no point in changing me back. Clary put me in her bag to keep me safe, but just as we were leaving someone ripped open the bag and took me from it. It turns out it was a vampire, and he and his friends took me back to Hotel Dumort. I kept biting them and trying to get away, but it was no use. By then, I was pretty sure I was going to die. Then, there was a scream from somewhere in the hotel, and the vampires all went to see what it was. Then I saw Jace and Clary standing there, holding another vampire hostage. I've never been so glad to see Jace in my life. Clary proposed a trade –me for the vampire leader, Raphael. It didn't go very smoothly and a fight broke out. I bit Raphael and Clary picked me up and we were surrounded, when a bunch of werewolves burst in. They said they had come here for Clary, and Raphael said that they had no right coming to their lair, and that Clary was theirs, so they started fighting each other. I had seen a way out earlier and showed Clary and Jace to a door. Clary stabbed a werewolf and we ran up to the roof, where the vampires had left their bikes," Simon knew that Tessa, Cecily and Will had no idea what a motorbike was, but he wasn't going to explain; he didn't want to waste time. "So we escaped on one of their bikes –one of the ones that could fly." At the mention of flying, Tessa and Cecily looked at him in amazement. Even Will looked interested. "Unfortunately, the sun started to come up and the bike stopped working. We crashed and I turned back into a human. It hurt like hell." Simon took an unneeded breath of air.

"Things happened and Clary soon discovered her ability to draw runes, and knew where her mother had hidden the Mortal Cup from Valentine: in a painting. So I drove her, Jace, Alec and Isabelle to her apartment, and waited for them in the van while they went to retrieve the Cup. I started worrying when it took them longer than it should have to return. I decided to run in and help when I heard something smash and Clary scream. I took the bow and arrows Alec had left in the van and ran into the building. And there was this huge _creature_, a Greater Demon. I vaguely remembered something Jace had said about sunlight and demons not mixing well, so I shot at the skylight and smashed it open, letting the sunlight inside." Will raised his eyebrows and actually looked impressed. Cecily beamed up at him admirably and Tessa's eyes were slightly wider than usual, something Simon hoped didn't mean he had freaked her out.

"Well played vampire," Said Will.

"Uh, thanks," Said Simon, not expecting praise. "Anyway, a bunch of things happened, Valentine got away with the Cup, Jocelyn was still unconscious, Clary and Jace thought they were brother and sister and were devastated and I kept having urges to return to Hotel Dumort, because I had swallowed some of Raphael's blood when I had bitten him. One night the urge was too strong and I went. They all attacked me and if Raphael hadn't gotten me out, I wouldn't've been anything more than a tasty vampire appetizer. He called Clary and Jace and they buried me in a Jewish cemetery. I dug my way out of my grave, and that's how I became a vampire. I don't drink from humans," He said, hoping to convince them that he wasn't just some animal in a human's body. "If that's what you're worried about. I get blood from a butcher's."

"Your life is so interesting," Said Tessa, her expression slightly distant. "Contraptions that can fly and killing Greater Demons -"

"I've killed a Greater Demon," Said Will, almost petulantly. Tessa ignored him.

"And your friends sound wonderful," She said. Will snorted.

"We're still talking about the Lightwoods? Demon-fraternizing, scum of the earth, trust-betraying...Those Lightwoods?" He said. Simon glared at him. He hadn't met the Lightwoods of this era, and didn't particularly care what was said about them, but he cared about Isabelle and, to a certain extent, Alec. Though the two had never really had a proper conversation, he knew Alec was a good person, and had his heart in the right place, more so, now that he and Magnus were officially dating. Will caught Simon's glare and rolled his eyes, but stopped insulting the Lightwoods. There was a knock at the library door, and all four of them turned to see Sophie standing in the doorway.

"Master Lewis," She said. Simon fought back the urge to cringe. He would prefer her to call him Simon, like everyone else did. "I've been told to inform you that Magnus Bane has arrived,"


	5. Chapter 5

Simon followed Sophie as she led him down the stairs and into the entrance hall. Simon, who was feeling a million things ranging from nervousness, to anger, to anticipation thought that she was walking incredibly slowly. As they descended the stairs, Simon got his first view of Magnus. He looked..._different_, to say the least. His hair wasn't gelled up in spikes and he wasn't wearing makeup. His clothes were less colourful, and the lack of glitter would have made Simon question whether or not this was the real Magnus, were it not for the yellow-green cat-eyes and the outlandish sense of style. He was wearing a dark green velvet coat, adorned with brass buttons and lace at the cuffs. His shirt underneath had ruffles. He was wearing short black trousers that arrived to his knees, white tights covering his calves and leather shoes with buckles on the front. A long diamond hung from one ear and he was wearing a hat with a ridiculously large feather sticking out of it, that wouldn't have looked out of place on Napoleon Bonaparte. He was had several rings on all fingers of both hands, all of which were sparkling with jewels. All in all, he looked like the weird offspring of an eighteenth century French nobleman and a pirate. Not quite as disturbing as a cross between a gay Sonic the Hedgehog and the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, but a pretty close second.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Magnus looked at them for the first time. He raised an unimpressed, yet slightly curious eyebrow as he examined Simon. Sophie quickly excused herself, and left Simon, Magnus and Charlotte alone in the hallway.

"Is he the reason you summoned me?" Asked Magnus. "I can't possibly imagine why someone so ordinary-looking would require such urgency." Simon scowled at him.

"Yes, well," said Charlotte. "Perhaps I should let Simon explain his circumstances to you."

"Very well," Said Magnus, turning to look at Simon expectantly. Simon didn't bother being delicate with his words as he had with the Shadowhunters.

"I'm from the future," He said bluntly. Magnus' eyes widened a fraction in surprise.

"Really?" He said, his eyes narrowing. "How can I be sure you're telling the truth?" Simon rolled his eyes.

"What do you want to know about the future?" He asked. Magnus considered his question before answering.

"Do you know me in the future?" He asked.

"Unfortunately," Muttered Simon. Magnus heard him and flashed him an unapologetic grin.

"Very well then," He said. "Describe me. If the description seems accurate, then I shall believe you," Simon rolled his eyes again, but complied to the warlock's demand.

"The first time I met you was at a party you were throwing in honour of your cat's birthday," He said. Magnus nodded approvingly and he continued. "You were wearing copious amounts of glitter and makeup." _Copious?_ Seriously? He had been spending way too much time in the company of the Victorians. If he spent a few more days with them, he would probably start saying words like 'egad' and 'poppycock'. He shuddered at the thought. Magnus was smirking at him, waiting for him to keep going. "Your clothes are always very...colourful. Your hair is gelled up into spikes most of the time. You were serving drinks that turned people into rats," He said, and Magnus must have detected the sourness in his voice because he grinned at him again, flashing his brilliantly white teeth. Simon glared at him. "Is that convincing enough for you?" He asked, not wanting to enter the details of his brief time as rodent for a second time that day. Magnus paused for a moment, considering, then nodded.

"I suppose your description of my future self does seem rather realistic," He said.

"Great," Said Simon, relieved it had taken so little to convince Magnus of his story. "Now, the only reason I'm here is because I touched your snuffbox. All I need you to do is reverse the spell, send me back to my own time, and you won't see me again for about another hundred and thirty years. Sound good?"

"Exceedingly so," Said Magnus, examining a fingernail. "I'm afraid, however, that it can't be done," Simon stared at him for a moment.

"What do you mean it can't be done?" He said slowly, hoping he had misheard, or that Magnus was joking.

"When I say 'it can't be done', I usually mean, 'it can't be done'. Are you really as dim-witted as you look?" Simon grabbed Magnus by the lapels of his velvet coat and slammed him against the wall. His actions surprised even himself; he wasn't violent by nature. To be honest, the closest he'd come to violence before he had met the Shadowhunters was throwing an empty pot of Play-Doh at his sister when he was seven, resulting in a split lip and ten minutes in the time-out corner, and playing Halo on his Xbox.

"Explain," He said through gritted teeth. Magnus rolled his golden-green cat-eyes at him and took his time before answering; clearly he wasn't that intimidated by Simon.

"What I mean to say," Said Magnus. "Is that there is no way for you to return to your own time. There is no spell capable of doing it. You shouldn't even _be_ here, it's impossible. Time travel is, or at least _should_ _be_ impossible." Simon's jaw dropped and his eyes widened to an alarming size. "Now, could you please remove your hands from me? You're creasing my jacket and I'd be rather upset if you did it any permanent damage," Simon slowly removed his fists from the bunched-up material of Magnus' jacket. It was as if he was in some kind of daze, or dream-state. He was just waiting to wake up. Except, he now knew that it was impossible for him to wake up, he couldn't be sent back to his own time. He was going to have to wait. For one hundred and thirty years. What was he going to do for a hundred and thirty years? How was he going to survive? If Simon had a habit of breathing he was pretty sure he'd be hyperventilating right about now.

"I suppose you'll need somewhere to stay," Said Magnus nonchalantly, brushing invisible lint form the collar of his coat. Simon looked up at him incredulously. Was Magnus actually offering him a place to stay? Magnus looked up from his coat, raising his eyebrows expectantly at Simon, waiting for him to speak.

"I-I guess so," He said.

"Since it's my possession that's landed you in this mess, providing you with a place to stay, however temporary, is, I feel, my duty," Said Magnus. Again, Simon didn't speak until Magnus prompted him by raising his eyebrows.

"I-uh," He stammered, not quite sure what to say. Did he even want to stay with Magnus? Then again, he needed a pace to stay, it was hardly like he could just keep hanging around the Institute, he wasn't even supposed to be able to get in. Plus, Simon needed to make it until 2008 without dying and how better to do so, than by sticking to Magnus Bane, future High Warlock of Brooklyn like glue? After all it was _his_ fault he was here in the first place, the least he could do was to make sure Simon got back to his own time alive, right?

"Well?" Asked Magnus, clearly growing impatient.

"Sure," Said Simon. "I mean, if you're sure you don't mind," Magnus rolled his feline-like eyes again.

"Of course I mind," He said irritably. "But _someone_ has to make sure you get back to your own era in one piece, don't they?"

"I...guess they do," Said Simon, still unsure if what he thought was happening was actually happening.

"Then it's settled," Said Magnus. "I'll come by tomorrow to pick you up, leaving you with one night left with your new friends. I would ask more about you, but as I really don't care and I imagine we'll be spending quite some time together, I can wait," With that, he turned brusquely to Charlotte, who Simon had completely forgotten was standing not two feet away.

"I-Uh-Thank you, Magnus," She said. She too seemed to be having trouble comprehending what had just happened. Magnus took her right hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

"Always a pleasure, dear Charlotte," He said, before turning on his heel and storming out of the front door, the tails of his green coat flapping behind him. Charlotte blinked a few times before turning to face Simon.

"Well," She said. "That was...eventful." Simon blinked at her. _Eventful_ didn't even begin to cover what had just happened. Had Simon really just agreed to live with Magnus Bane? For the next hundred and thirty years? Yes. Yes, he had. Oh, joy.


	6. Chapter 6

Since Magnus' visit, Simon had spent the rest of his day lying on his bed in the guest room, contemplating how he had gotten himself into this mess and what his life was going to be like for the next hundred and thirty years. Once or twice, he had even considered going out and getting himself killed, but he had shoved those thoughts aside. Beside the fact that the Mark of Cain made that pretty much impossible anyway, Magnus wasn't worth him dying over and he would never see Clary or Isabelle or his family again if he did. A small tapping on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. He got off the bed and went to open the door. Cecily was standing there. She had changed clothes since this morning. Her dress was of the traditional Victorian type; lace, ruffles, poufy shoulders. It was a shade of royal green. Her hair was pinned back in a bun, a few strands escaping and framing her ivory-skinned face. Needless to say, she looked stunning. Simon was beginning to think that was one of the requisites of being a Shadowhunter; he had yet to meet an ugly one. It was probably the angel blood, he decided. Cecily cleared her throat and Simon realised he had been staring and that a few minutes had passed without either of them speaking. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and gave her a sheepish grin. Simon wasn't sure if she was bothered by his staring or not. He could hear how fast her heart was beating, which probably meant that she was either flattered or incredibly freaked out about a vampire staring at her wordlessly. Simon assumed the latter.

"Sorry," He said.

"It's no trouble at all. I was merely wondering, would you like to accompany me to dinner?"

"Uh sure," Said Simon. It wasn't as if he actually needed to eat, but he liked Cecily. This place was also new and unfamiliar to her. Well, maybe not as much as Simon, what with him being a vampire from another century and all. But he also wanted to spend time with the others before he left tomorrow. Perhaps with the exception of Will. But he wanted to thank them for their understanding and their hospitality. Cecily beamed at him and linked her arm through his. She led him expertly through the maze of corridors, eventually entering the dining room. So much for it being a new and unfamiliar place. Sitting at the table were Charlotte, Henry and Jem. Simon and Cecily took seats opposite Jem. Charlotte and Henry were too deep in conversation to notice them enter. Simon couldn't help but notice the slight worry playing in Jem's strange silver eyes. It probably had something to do with Tessa, Simon decided. The two seemed very close; something that was to be expected from an engaged couple.

"_I'm sorry Will, truly I am,"_ Simon's head snapped up. He glanced at the others. Charlotte and Henry were still talking, Jem seemed lost in thought and Cecily, who had noticed the Simon's abrupt movement, was frowning at him slightly. He gave her a small reassuring smile. So, the others evidently hadn't heard Tessa speak. Of course! Simon held back a face palm as realisation dawned on him: vampire hearing.

"_Not as much as I am Tessa,"_ He heard Will say. What on earth were they talking about?

"_I love Jem, Will, you have to understand that,"_ Simon's eyebrows raised a fraction.

"_So, do I Tessa,"_ At that Simon's eyebrows shot into his hairline. _"He's my _parabatai_, my brother," _Simon's eyebrows returned to their original position on his forehead. _"You think that means nothing?"_

"_Of course not Will, I just -"_ At that point Simon had had enough. He didn't like eavesdropping or butting his head in other people's business unless it was absolutely necessary, and the only times that had happened was when Clary had disappeared for three days and when his parents wouldn't tell him what they had gotten him for his seventh birthday. He covered his ears as surreptitiously as he could. Of course, Jem had to pick this moment to snap out of his thoughts and look up at Simon. He frowned and regarded Simon with a look that clearly said 'What the hell are you doing?' Cecily, who seemed to be hyperaware of everything going on around her, noticed Jem's expression and also looked at Simon. She was exchanging worried looks with Jem when the door opened and Tessa and Will entered. Simon removed his hands from his ears before anyone else could start questioning his sanity. Tessa and Will's entrance seemed to have brought Charlotte and Henry's conversation to an end.

"Oh," Henry seemed surprised at the amount of people in the room; last time he had checked, only Jem had been present. Will sat on Jem's right side, directly opposite Simon, while Tessa sat on Jem's other side. Jem took Tessa's hand in his and she smiled sweetly at him. Will looked up, saw Simon and Cecily's proximity and glared at him. Simon gulped and made to move his chair slightly away from her, but Cecily grabbed his arm and held him in place, looking at Will with a glare that defied his own. Will now turned his attention to his younger sister and a death-glare match ensued.

"Well, how about some dinner?" Said Henry, looking uneasily from Will to Cecily. "Uh, Sophie, could you please serve dinner?" He called out. The Herondales' glaring contest had now gathered the attention of everyone present and their faces were expressing different degrees of worry and concern. Sophie's entrance with a trolley of plates seemed to snap Cecily and Will back to normal. Simon politely declined the plate of food Sophie placed in front of him and watched the others eat in silence. About halfway through the meal he spoke up.

"So, um," He said, really wishing he had prepared what he was going to say earlier. "I just wanted to thank you for being so kind and understanding, considering my circumstances. I hope this isn't the last time we see each other, but if it is you guys are really awesome," They -with the exception of Will- smiled at him, genuine, albeit slightly puzzled, smiles.

* * *

After dinner, Simon aimlessly wondered around the Institute, until he found himself back at the library. He opened the door and saw Tessa sitting on the couch, cradling her head in her hands.

"Tessa? Are you alright?" He asked. She looked up at him, and shook her head. He made his way over to her, going instantly into good friend/caring brother mode. Up close he could see the dark shadows under her eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Will. Jem. My life." She said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Simon.

"Well," She said. "When I first arrived here, I found myself...infatuated with William. In fact we..." She paused, unsure whether or not to continue.

"Hey, zero judgement from twenty-first century vampire," He said.

"Well, we kissed. But then Will started pushing me away, and I deduced he wanted nothing to do with me. When Jem also kissed me, I realised I was also infatuated with him, and that _he_ did love me. To make matters worse, Jem has a very limited time to live, so when he proposed, I of course said yes."

"What do you mean a limited time to live?" Asked Simon.

"It is not my story to tell, but James was tortured as a child and made addicted to a drug. He now cannot live without regular doses of that drug, but the more he takes, the more it kills him. That's what makes him...silver." She explained.

"Oh. Wow. Sucks to be Jem. I had no idea," Said Simon. Tessa nodded glumly. "But then, aside from the obvious, what's the problem? You love Jem, he loves you,"

"Shortly after James' proposal, I had a conversation with William, during which he confessed his true feelings for me,"

"Oh," Said Simon. "Crap."

"Indeed." Said Tessa. The two then sat in silence for a while, neither knowing what to say to the other. Then, finally, Tessa broke the silence.

"Simon, can I trust you not to speak of this to anyone?" She asked. Simon looked taken aback for a moment. Of course, if they had known each other better, she wouldn't have asked that question, but given that they had only known each other for approximately twenty-four hours, it was understandable.

"Of course," He said. Relief washed over Tessa's features.

"Thank you," She said. "I feel as if I can trust you, Simon. You remind me of my brother Nate,"

"Thanks," Said Simon.

"I mean that of course, in a good way. You remind me of him _before_ he tried to murder my friends and I,"

"Uh, thanks. I think." He said. She smiled.

"Then you're welcome. I think." Simon grinned at her. "And good luck. I hope you make it back to your own time in one piece." And with that, Simon's previous mood returned. Luck. It was going to take more than luck for him to spend a hundred and thirty years with Magnus and end up in one piece. It was going to take a miracle.


	7. Chapter 7

**May 1878**

"Simon?" He could hear the voice through his sleep-clouded mind, but decided to dismiss it as part of his dream. Then, a hand shook him by the shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he leaped out of bed.

"Ah!" He yelled. Sophie let out a small shriek of surprise and stumbled backwards, tripping over her skirts in her haste. Simon caught her before she fell over. "Sorry!" He said, helping her get to her feet.

"Um," She was flustered and a blush was rising in her cheeks. "Magnus Bane is waiting for you downstairs,"

"Magnus? Oh. Oh!" Simon suddenly realised that he was in his underwear. Sophie was doing her best to avert her eyes. "Oh! Um, thanks. Tell him I'm coming in a second." She nodded and left the room hastily. Simon looked around the room for his clothes. He was fairly sure that all he'd done was leave them in a heap on the floor, but they weren't there anymore. Instead, someone had placed a fresh set of clothes of the back of the chair. They were much like the ones he had been given yesterday, except that these were more of a charcoal colour, rather than the light grey of yesterday's. He pulled them on quickly and was carrying the jacket in his teeth and attaching the bracers as he hurried down the corridors. He was pulling his arms through the jacket sleeves as he walked down the stairs.

"About time. I was starting to think you were never going to wake up Sandra," Said Magnus, from where he was leaning against a wall examining his fingernails. Simon's glare went unnoticed. Today Magnus stood out slightly less than yesterday, but not by much. The clothes were clearly from a previous century, and Simon couldn't help but think of Ichabod Crane when he looked at him. Which was a shame; he'd always liked Sleepy Hollow and now he wouldn't be able to watch it without thinking of Magnus.

"Well, then," Said Charlotte. She was standing with Tessa, Jem and Cecily by the door. "Best of luck, Simon," She said, pulling him into a brief hug. Jem was next, sticking out his hand for Simon to shake.

"I hope this isn't the last time we speak, but if it is, I would like you to know that this is definitely the strangest thing that has ever happened to me." He said, smiling. Simon grinned back.

"You and me both, buddy," He said.

"I'll see you soon?" Said Tessa as she and Simon hugged.

"Course." He said. "Let me know if your _situation_ gets any easier."

"I have serious doubts about that," She said. Finally Cecily and Simon stood face to face, both waiting for the other to speak. Eventually, it was Cecily who broke the silence.

"Good luck Simon," And placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Simon could feel his skin burning where her lips had pressed against it. Before he could recover from the shock, or think of something to say, Magnus spoke.

"How sickeningly sweet," He said. "But I'm afraid we must be off. Charlotte, Tessa, Jem, nice to see you all again. You, I've never met, but you look an awful lot like your brother. Pass him my best, will you?" Cecily nodded, desperately avoiding Simon's eyes, a rose-red blush covering her usually pale cheeks. "Much obliged," Said Magnus. "Come on, Shirley." Simon followed Magnus out the front door, pausing on the steps to wave one last goodbye to his friends, then turning his attention to the back of Magnus' head, hoping vampires had some kind of super-glare that could melt through people's skulls.

Magnus lead him silently through the cobbled streets of London, through crowds of people, avoiding coaches pulled by horses and piles of dung. Simon found it hard to keep up with Magnus and take in everything he saw. But, he reminded himself, it wasn't as if London was going anywhere anytime soon, and neither was he.

Eventually, Magnus stopped outside a fairly nice-looking house and led Simon up the steps. He pushed a key into the lock, but paused before opening the door.

"I should warn you, we will not be living alone. My...good friend, Woolsey Scott, will occasionally be living here." Said Magnus. Simon raised an eyebrow at him.

"If 'good friend' is code for 'Downworlder lover', then I'm telling you right now, you and I are never going to be anything more than acquaintances," Said Simon. For a moment, Magnus looked genuinely surprised by Simon's reaction. But it only lasted a few seconds before Magnus' usual nonchalant expression took over his facial features.

"People are a lot more accepting in the twenty first century," He said as he opened the door.

"Well there are still a few who are still tragically narrow-minded, but we have a special name for them, I forget what it is...Oh, that's it: dicks." Said Simon. Magnus turned back and grinned at him.

"Perhaps I was wrong about you," Was all he said, before turning around and giving Simon the grand tour of the place that, in years to come, he would call home.

* * *

Magnus' house, as it turned out, was not _technically_ Magnus'. It had previously been owned by a fairly wealthy family who had suddenly decided to move to the country one day, leaving their house to a man they barely knew, yet trusted completely: Magnus. Simon was starting to understand just how useful magic powers were. And he had to admit that he was a little jealous. Not that he would _ever_ tell that to Magnus of course.

Simon's room was sparsely decorated, but nice nonetheless. Yes, the walls were white and, yes, there were only four items of furniture in the room -a bed, a desk, a chair and a wardrobe- but Simon liked its simplicity. The room overlooked the street below and from his window Simon could observe the bustle of the Mundane Londoners lives as they walked through the street, headed to unknown destinations. The sheer amount of people reminded him of his home in New York, something he found comforting. Across the street there was a pie shop, a shoemaker's and a green grocer's. On the corner was a boy of about nine or ten years old, selling newspapers. Magnus stood in the doorway, watching as Simon took in the room.

"I didn't think you'd need a fireplace, so I put a desk there instead." Said Magnus. "There are clothes in the wardrobe. They should be your size." Simon opened the wardrobe and, sure enough, there were clothes inside handing from coat hangers.

"Did you pay for these?" Asked Simon, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Magnus flashed him a grin.

"My, my Shelby, I didn't have you pegged as a gold-digger." He said. "If you want me to spend money on you, you'll have to treat me to a dinner-date first." And with that, he winked at Simon, turned on his heel and left the vampire alone in his new room. Simon rolled his eyes at Magnus' antics. He looked out of the window again, resting his elbows on the windowsill. He could hear water running in one of the nearby rooms; Magnus was probably having a bath. At eleven o'clock? Simon shrugged. As far as he was concerned, Magnus was probably insane. Besides, what did it matter to him what time the warlock bathed? Downstairs there was knocking on the door.

"Shirley! Could you answer that please?" Called Magnus voice.

"Sure thing Mathilda!" He called back as he headed back down the stairs. He turned the handle and swung the front door open. Standing on the front steps was a man, carrying a suitcase. He had curly blond hair and warm, hazel-brown eyes. He took in Simon's appearance with a raised eyebrow. Before Simon had the chance to introduce himself, the stranger spoke.

"I must say, when Magnus invited me over, a ménage-à-trois was certainly not what I was expecting."


	8. Chapter 8

**August 1878**

"Hurry up Sally, we're going to be late!" Magnus' voice called up from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Said Simon, making his way down the stairs, fumbling with the buttons of his black velvet vest. When Magnus caught sight of him, his eyes widened in shock.

"What have you done?" He asked. Simon scowled at him.

"It's not my fault these things are so damn complicated!" Magnus let out and exasperated sigh and walked over to him. He re-buttoned the vest, putting the buttons into the correct holes and tucked in the red satin cravat that was pressed so tightly against Simon's windpipe, he was thankful he didn't need oxygen to live. Magnus then straightened Simon's black jacket, brushed some dust of the collar and took a step back to admire his work.

"That looks slightly better," He said. "Note that I say slightly. At least you let me give you a haircut; you really would have looked ghastly otherwise." Simon snorted and rolled his eyes. Magnus seemed to have gone all out for the occasion. He was wearing an emerald green silk vest and a sapphire blue cravat. On top of that he was wearing a midnight black jacket, with long coat tails. Perched on his head was a black top hat that had a peacock feather sticking out of it. He was carrying a green marble-headed cane in one of his gloved hands. At that moment Woolsey opened the front door and stuck his head inside.

"If you two are done fondling each other, could we perhaps get going?" He asked them.

"Sure," Replied Simon. They followed him out onto the street and into the coach waiting for them. Magnus and Woolsey sat side by side, while Simon was seated opposite them. Woolsey was dressed simply, yet elegantly in a cream-coloured vest, black trousers and jacket, and a top hat. Simon remembered the first time he had met Woolsey, when he had answered the door the day he had moved in. Woolsey had thought he and Magnus were, as he put it, 'cavorting Downworlder lovers'. Simon had tried to assure him as best he could that he and Magnus were not, nor would they _ever _be, together. Magnus had then appeared in a bathrobe, his wet hair falling in his cat-like eyes, and stated, 'Woolsey, I can assure you, the vampire just lives here,' Simon had helpfully added, 'Right. What he said.' They had decided it would be better to just say that Simon was an old friend of Magnus' who had nowhere else to live, and that Magnus was letting him stay with him to repay an old debt. It was just easier than having to explain that Simon was from the future. Now Simon and Woolsey got along rather well. Simon had grown used to the Woolsey's strange sense of humour and had learned that he was the founder of the Praetor Lupus, an organisation that helped new Downworlders grow accustomed to their new way of life.

The coach came to a sudden and abrupt halt, and Simon was brought out of his train of thought. The door was opened from the outside and Magnus and Woolsey descended, shortly followed by Simon. The venue was lit by thousands of lanterns that almost appeared to be floating in mid-air. A band was playing and people were dancing across the stand that had been placed there as a makeshift dance floor. It was a party being held in celebration of the defeat of the Magister and his clockwork army. And although Simon and Magnus had had very little to do with it, Charlotte and Henry had insisted on inviting them anyway. Simon was pretty sure that he, Magnus, Woolsey and Tessa were among some of the only Downworlders to ever have been invited to a formal Shadowhunter celebration, and even then, Tessa wasn't completely Downworlder.

"Magnus! Simon!" They turned to see Tessa heading their way. She was wearing a large burgundy-red dress, with black lace at the cuffs, hem and trim. She was wearing long-sleeve black gloves that passed her elbows. Her hair was pinned back with what looked like garnet-encrusted pins. Overall, she looked quite beautiful. When she reached them, Magnus placed a kiss on the back of her hand, while Simon pulled her into a brief hug.

"I'm so glad you could make it," She said. "Come, the others are waiting for you," She said, grabbing Simon and Magnus' hands and pulling them through the mass of celebrating Shadowhunters. Woolsey followed, his hand in Magnus' free one.

She led them to a willow tree, slightly apart from where the Shadowhunters were gathered. Standing under the tree were six people Simon had grown rather attached to over the past few months: Henry, his arm wrapped protectively over tiny Charlotte, whose hands were caressing her baby-bump. Jem, his silvery hair blowing gently in the soft breeze, looking more at ease and peaceful than Simon had ever seen him. Sophie, looking beautiful in a dress that Simon knew had been paid for by Charlotte as a 'thank you' for her services. Will, who, yes, Simon counted among his friends, was standing with his back against the tree, his black hair tousled and his blue eyes shining with new-found happiness. And then, there was Cecily. Her black hair was gathered up and pinned back by sapphires. Her dress was royal blue, made of silk, with black lace hem and trim. She and Simon locked eyes, beautiful violet meeting plain brown, but it only lasted a few seconds before the two both looked away hastily. Looking at his friends gathered under the willow tree in Hyde Park in 1878 made him yearn for the ones waiting for him in 2008 Brooklyn. But he shook those thoughts from his head; he was determined to be happy tonight.

"Come on," Said Tessa from beside him, pulling him, Magnus and Woolsey to the others. After many exchanged kisses, handshakes and 'you look wonderful's, Gideon Lightwood appeared. Though he and Will still weren't on the best of terms, Simon liked him. Having only met a few weeks ago, he couldn't claim to really know him, but he reminded him so much of Alec and Isabelle -not so much in looks, more in terms of personality- that Simon found himself spending quite a lot of time around him, unconsciously gravitating toward him. Gideon kissed Sophie on the cheek, resulting in Sophie blushing deeply, and bid everyone a good evening, by either shaking or kissing the backs of their hands. When he reached Simon the two shook hands, and he looked as if he was about to say something, but was cut off by Henry.

"Gather round, everybody, gather round," He said. He looked around for a moment, grabbed a passing by Shadowhunter and placed him behind an old-fashioned camera. "If you wouldn't mind Philius," He said, before making his way over to the others and taking Charlotte in his arms once again. They all stood together, some holding hands, others with hands placed around waists, others merely standing side by side. There was a _click_ and a bright flash, and the photo was taken. The group of friends dispersed into pairs and couples and Simon simply observed the scene from a short distance. He lost himself in thought and memory and didn't notice when Cecily walked up to him.

"Simon," Said Cecily, smirking a little at the expression on the vampire's face as he jumped in surprise. "Would you like to accompany me on a walk?" She asked. Simon glanced in Will's direction; just to be sure that accepting Cecily's invitation wouldn't mean certain death. Will, who was paying more attention to Tessa than to Simon and Cecily, gave Simon a sort-of smile when their eyes met. Simon was pretty sure Will was either coming down with a terrible disease –possibly Demon Pox– or had already drunk far too much, but either way, Simon wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned back to Cecily, who was watching him, patiently waiting for his answer.

"Sure," He said. "I'd love to," Cecily smiled at him and linked their arms together. She led them down a small path, away from the loud music and chatter. The further away they got, the more the sounds of the festivities dimmed, and soon all Simon could hear was the chirping of insects, the rustling of leaves, the trickling of nearby water and the rhythmic beat of Cecily's heart. The stopped on a bridge, the almost-full moon light shining down on them. Cecily took a few moments before speaking.

"Simon, I," She started, then seemed to lose either her courage or her train of thought. "The reason I brought you here is so that we could talk privately,"

"O-kay?" Said Simon slowly, not entirely sure he wanted to know where this conversation was leading.

"I, Simon, I think," Again, she seemed to lose her nerve, something very out of character for her. Simon noticed her shaking hands and took them in his own. She gave him a nervous smile in return.

"I think I love you," She said in a voice so low that an ordinary human probably wouldn't have been able to hear her. But Simon did and before he could react, Cecily's lips were against his, and before his brain could catch up with his body, his arms were curling around her waist, pulling her closer to him and his lips were moving against hers. Her hands came to rest behind his neck, her fingers winding in his hair. They broke apart, Cecily's need for air having become an issue, and pressed their foreheads together, their arms still wrapped around each other, their eyes closed.

After a while spent like that, just enjoying the feel of each other's proximity, Cecily pulled her head back and smiled at Simon.

"I take it my sentiments are reciprocated?" She said. Simon returned her smile and was about to answer when his brain finally caught up with the situation. Cecily loved him. She _loved _him. Love wasn't just some casual feeling, it was _love_. Love was a big deal. It was meant to be for a long time, sometimes forever. And that was just the trouble wasn't it? Forever. Had Simon been a Shadowhunter or even a Mundane, he and Cecily could have gotten married, had children and grown old together. But that wasn't an option. Simon was going to have to watch everyone he ever loved wither away and die. As the reality of the truth set in, Simon slowly withdrew his arms from around Cecily's waist. Concern and worry marred her beautiful features. Simon bit his lip.

"Cecily." He said. "I think I love you too," The worry on her face was instantly washed away by relief. "But we can't be together." Her relief was replaced with shock and pain.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because I love you," He said. Cecily's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"We can't be together because...you love me?" She said hesitantly. And within seconds, the pained expression was gone, replaced by tears of frustration threatening to spill. "And, pray tell, how the hell does that work Simon?"

"I'm immortal, Cecily," He said. "I don't want to have to watch you die," Cecily's lower lip trembled. Simon took her face in his two hands.

"Cecily Herondale," He said, his tone firm. "I love you. And I always will. Always. But you can't love me that way. You have to live your life. You'll fall in love again, you'll get married, have a happy life, and when you think back to this moment, all you'll remember is having a silly little infatuation with a vampire form the future, whose name you can't even remember," She shook her head furiously.

"No," She said.

"Yes," He said. "For me. Please." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to contain the tears gathering in her eyes.

"Here," She said, removing a sapphire ring from her hand and placing it in his, closing his fingers over it. "So you don't forget me," She said with a weak smile. Simon clenched his fingers around the ring. Cecily then straightened up and started walking off the bridge, back in the direction of the party. Before she disappeared from Simon's view, she turned.

"Goodbye Simon Lewis," She said, knowing full well that he would be able to hear her. "I love you," And then she left. And it when Simon felt a sudden wetness on his cheek, he realised that he too was crying.

* * *

After a silent ride back home with Simon, Magnus knew something was wrong with him. He looked distinctively morose. So, when they entered their home, Magnus asked Woolsey to wait for him in their bedroom and knocked on Simon's door. When he heard no answer he entered and saw the vampire lying on his bed staring glumly at the ceiling. Just as the warlock was about to ask him what was wrong, Simon spoke.

"Does it ever get any easier Magnus?" Asked Simon.

"Does what ever get any easier?" Asked Magnus.

"Having to let the people you love go," Said the vampire. And that was when Magnus realised that there was nothing he could say or do to help or comfort the young boy from the future. So he told the truth.

"No Simon, it never does,"


	9. Chapter 9

**December 25th** **1878**

Simon watched the snowflakes flurry around him. He was sitting on a bench in Hyde Park, wearing only a thin shirt and some trousers held up with bracers. He had recently discovered that walking was a good way to spend time thinking, remembering. He would talk a walk almost every day in Hyde Park for a good solid two hours. Then he would sit on a bench for a while, watching the people walk past him before heading home. Today though, hardly anyone was out. They were all sitting around warm fireplaces in the company of loved ones and family. Though Jewish, Simon missed Christmas. Every year he would head over to Clary's where she would be waiting, with Jocelyn and Luke, to exchange gifts and share a meal, laughing and just generally having a great time. That wouldn't be happening this year. In fact, Magnus had made little to no mention of Christmas. Simon let out a sigh. He was feeling particularly depressed. He glanced at his watch -a gift from Henry- and decided to start slowly heading back to the house.

He took the long route back, giving him much more time to mope about his friends. He was so lost in thought that he walked straight into a short old woman, her shoulders hunched against the cold, a frail-looking shawl wrapped around her.

"Oh, sorry!" Said Simon. The woman gave him a kindly smile.

"It's alright dearie," She said. Then, taking a better look at Simon, frowned. "It must be terribly hard, being in a place as strange as this," She said. Simon tried his best at a laugh, but even to his ears it sounded empty and hollow.

"I'm from New York, it not that much different," He said. And there was that sympathetic smile again.

"That's not what I meant dearie," She said, looking at him intently. Simon's eyes widened a fraction. Did this woman know he was from the future? How? What else did she know?

"I -" He started, but was cut off by the old woman.

"Don't worry dearie, it'll be our little secret," She said, with a conspiratorial wink. Simon was dumbfounded. He didn't even know what to think. The woman started rummaging for something in the many folds of her shawl. Finally, with an 'Aha!' she found what she was looking for and pulled out a ring. It was a large amber stone set in silver. She offered it to him.

"I can't take this," He said.

"It's not for _you_, is it dearie," She said, smiling as though he had just told a mildly amusing joke. "It's for protection. _You_ may not need it, but your guide will," Simon looked at her perplexed.

"My...guide?" He asked.

"Yes, the one helping you back to your home," She explained.

"You mean...Magnus? No offense lady, but he can shoot fire from his hands. I don't think he needs a ring to protect him," She rolled her eyes and smiled good-naturedly at him.

"It doesn't protect the wearer _per se_; it just ensures that in moments of need, help will find them." She said. "And believe me dearie, there are going to be times when he will need help." She offered the ring to him again and this time he took it; he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do. She smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good luck dearie," She said, before turning around and walking around the corner, leaving Simon standing alone in the snow staring at a ring with an extremely confused look on his face.

* * *

When Simon entered the house, he was hit by the sudden smell of pine. He entered the living room and saw a large Christmas tree, gleaming with decorations. Magnus, who had been sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper, looked up.

"Magnus," Said Simon cautiously, not entirely sure if what he was seeing was real. He was fairly sure that there had been no Christmas tree when he had left after lunch. "What is...this?" He asked. Magnus rolled his eyes.

"Sheldon, I really thought that even someone with your limited capabilities would have known what a Christmas tree was," He said. Simon scowled at him.

"Of course I know what a Christmas tree is. My question is, why is there one in the middle of the room?"

"Because I've seen how mopey you've been recently and decided to do something to cheer you up," He said. "Ta-dah!" He waved his arms around. Simon couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face.

"Thank you Magnus," He said. "This is great," Magnus, for possibly the first time since Simon had known him, smiled at him. Not a sneer, or a smirk, or a twitch of the lips, a genuine smile.

"But that's not all, I also have a gift for you," He snapped his fingers and thin rectangular shape covered in paper appeared in his hands. He handed it to Simon, who carefully removed the paper and looked at the contents. It was a penny dreadful; the Victorian version of a comic book. The title, written in large letters was 'Varney the Vampire'. Simon let out a small laugh.

"Thanks Magnus," He said. The warlock bowed his head in recognition. Then Simon suddenly remembered the ring. He dug it out of his pocket.

"An old woman gave this to me," He said. "She told me it was for my guide. Apparently, it makes sure that in times of need, help will come," He handed it to Magnus, whose cat-eyes were shining brightly. The look on his face made Simon wonder when the last time anyone had given him a present was. Magnus took the ring and slid it on to his right ring finger.

"Thank you Simon," He said. It was now Simon's turn to smile as his friend received a gift.

"Don't mention it Magnus," He said.


	10. Chapter 10

**January 1879**

"Bye Sal," Said Simon with a wave at the butcher. Sal grunted in return and got back to carving up a piece of meat –Simon wasn't sure what it was and was a bit afraid of the answer he might get if he asked. When Simon had moved in with Magnus, the warlock had introduced him and Sal, informing Simon that Sal was willing to supply him with blood, for a price, of course.

The two bottles he was carrying in his hand clinked together as he walked. He was trying to get back to the house as soon as possible; he didn't really want to be seen carrying bottles of blood around. He turned the corner and almost collided with a man.

"Excuse me," Said Simon, starting to walk past the man. The stranger however, grabbed Simon's arm.

"My mistress wishes to speak to you," He said, his monotonous voice somehow managing to sound threatening.

"Uh huh," Said Simon. "And what happens if I don't want to see her?" He pulled his arm out of the stranger's grip.

"She would rather you come of your own accord, however, she has ways of making you come by force." Simon sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine," He said, resigned. "Let's get this over with,"

* * *

The man, who Simon was pretty sure was a vampire subjugate, led Simon to a grand house, obviously owned by someone who possessed a lot of money. He led him into the expensively decorated living room, and gestured to a sofa, obviously inviting him to sit, before leaving, probably to fetch his mistress. Simon remained standing, the occasional clinking noises of the bottles breaking the silence.

"Good evening," Said a voice from behind him. Simon whirled around, almost dropping the bottles in his shock. He was met with the sight of a woman. She had honey blond ringlets, some strands escaping the pins that held it back, and emerald green eyes. Her skin was deathly-pale. She was wearing a quite obviously expensive dress, made of black silk and a large ruby hung from her neck. Simon thought the pendant looked familiar, but couldn't quite place it. Were it not for the fact that she had basically forced him to come here against his own will, and was quite clearly a vampire, Simon probably would have found her quite beautiful.

"I was told you wanted to speak to me," Said Simon. She flashed him a smile, exposing her teeth. Even without her fangs showing she was frightening.

"Straight to the point then," She said. "I like that," Her voice was slightly flirtatious. When he was obviously unaffected, she continued. "My name is Camille Belcourt,"

"Simon Lewis," Said Simon. When it became clear that he was not going to kiss her hand or take a bow, she continued, albeit looking slightly disgruntled.

"I have reason to believe that you are currently sharing living quarters with a warlock, who goes by the name of Magnus Bane," Simon narrowed his eyes. When she had 'summoned' him, for a lack of a better word, Simon had automatically assumed that it was about his Daylighter blood. What did Magnus have to do with anything?

"So what if I am?" He asked. She gave him her intimidating smile again.

"My sources also tell me that you and Magnus are not, shall we say, on the best of terms at the moment?" Simon was taken aback by this. How could she possibly know that? It was true though; last week, he and Magnus had had a huge argument, and now the two weren't on speaking terms. The stupid thing was, Simon couldn't even remember what it was they were fighting about. As all these things were running around his mind, he did his best not to let his face give anything away.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He asked.

"Magnus Bane recently humiliated me. I do not like people humiliating me. I believe that you and I could come to some sort of agreement. After all, it would be _mutually beneficial_." Camille smiled at him, and it wasn't the same smile as before. This one was downright cold, and cruel, and sadistic.

"No," Said Simon. "I don't know what you're suggesting, or what kind of a person you think I am; no." A small frown creased Camille's features, as though she was not used to being refused. Then the frown straightened out, as if a though had suddenly occurred to her.

"Very well," She said. "However..." She unclasped her necklace. "Take this, if ever you change your mind." She handed the necklace to Simon, who fumbled with it and stuck it in his trouser pocket. The ruby was heavier than he had initially thought it would be and weighed down his trousers. Just as he was turning to leave, she spoke again.

"Oh and Simon, believe me, you _will_ change your mind. Magnus Bane is a truly selfish person, who cares about no one but himself. One day you will see that," Simon, who had paused when she spoke, walked to the door and let himself out. He made his way home, Camille's final words swimming through his mind all the way there.

* * *

Simon pushed his key through the lock and opened the front door of the house. Magnus was sitting on the sofa, reading an incredibly old, large, leather-bound book. He looked up at Simon as he entered.

"What took you so long? You left over an hour ago," Initially, Simon was stunned. This was the first time Magnus had spoken more than one word to him all week. Then he regained his senses and was about to answer when he realised that concern wasn't the only thing he had heard in Magnus' voice. There was also suspicion.

"Oh, nowhere," He said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just went for a bit of a walk," Magnus raised his eyebrows, maybe trying to tell if Simon was lying or not. Seemingly, he decided on the latter, as he shrugged and returned to his book. Simon let out a small sigh of relief and went to the kitchen, putting the bottles of blood on the counter. As he went to walk upstairs, he passed Magnus in the living room, immersed in reading. The necklace weighed heavily in his pocket.


	11. Chapter 11

**February 1879**

Simon awoke fairly groggily and spent a few minutes just lying in his bed, looking up at the ceiling before getting up. He dressed slowly and ran a quick comb through his hair, just enough so that Magnus wouldn't make him bald for having –as he put it– 'distracting hair'. That had already happened twice that month. He walked downstairs to the dining room, poured himself a cup of blood from the pot simmering on the stove –where it was waiting for him every morning– and sat down on one of the chairs. Woolsey glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, took one look at Simon's worn appearance and disappeared behind the paper without a sound. Simon sipped idly at the mug of blood, not really tasting it or feeling it slide down his throat, just knowing that drinking it would give him energy. His eyes glazed over slightly as he stared fixatedly at the teapot on the table. Without wanting to, he replayed the scenes of last night over in his head, trying to comprehend what had happened, trying to understand _why_ it had happened.

* * *

"Simon, Simon!" An excited and panicked voice broke through the vampire's dream-hazed mind.

"Huh?" He asked blearily, blinking his eyes open and squinting at the figure above him.

"Hurry up, it's an emergency!" The urgency in the person's voice made Simon come to his senses and attempt to get out of bed as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, during the night, his sheets had wrapped themselves around him so badly, the result was a mass of twisted limbs and linen, lying on the floor. He heard a snort from above him and looked up, finally recognizing the silhouette; Magnus.

"What?" Snapped Simon.

"Elegant," Said Magnus, smirking. "Though, believe it or not, the reason I woke you up at three in the morning was not for this amusing sight," Simon let out a sigh from the floor.

"Then why was it?" He asked, trying to untangle himself from the sheets, without much success.

"Charlotte's having the baby," Magnus said. At that moment, Simon's brain seemed to simultaneously freeze and go into overdrive. He thrashed around on the floor, trying to rid himself of the sheets, only resulting in him getting more wrapped up than before. Magnus sighed at the sight and snapped his fingers, making the sheets reappear on the bed.

"You couldn't have just done that in the first place?" Asked Simon, his glare not really affecting the warlock, as he was still lying on the ground.

"Yes; my friend is having a baby and the first thing I think of is to make sure that my housemate doesn't incapacitate himself with his own bed sheets. Honestly Samantha, I had no idea how hopeless you were," Magnus rolled his eyes at Simon. "Get up and get dressed. We're leaving for the Institute in ten minutes." He said before leaving the room.

Simon got up hurriedly and started throwing on clothes haphazardly, leaving half his shirt unbuttoned and his trousers on back to front. He ran down the stairs, almost tripping in his haste. He found Magnus in the living room, standing on some kind of symbol painted on the floor, chanting words from an ancient language. When he was finished he looked up at Simon.

"Come here," He said. Simon obeyed, not really sure what was happening. Before he could react, Magnus had thrown some fowl smelling kind of powder at him. Simon coughed and sneezed and choked.

"What the hell was that?" He asked, his eyes stinging and watering. Magnus rolled his eyes impatiently, as though the answer were obvious.

"You can't enter the Institute as you're a vampire. When you first appeared, the Institute had no choice but to bend the rules of its protective and defensive spells because of the mark of Cain. That won't happen again, so I've momentarily bound us together using an old ritual, not dissimilar to a _parabatai _rune, but much more advanced. What I see and hear, you see and hear. That way you can be there without actually being there."

"Magnus that's...genius!" Exclaimed Simon.

"Yes, well, I do have my moments," Said Magnus smugly.

* * *

Almost as soon as Magnus's knuckles touched the front door of the Institute, it was thrown open by a manic-looking Henry.

"Come in, come in!" He said, all but dragging Magnus over the threshold.

"Henry, you need to calm down," Said Magnus, doing his best to sound soothing and comforting. Henry took and deep breath and nodded.

"Right," He said. "Calm. My wife is having a baby and you're asking me to _calm down?!_"

"Yes, I am," Said Magnus simply. "Where is she?" He asked.

"Upstairs," Magnus nodded and left Henry pacing back and forth in the hall. When he reached the upstairs landing he was greeted by the sight of Gideon and Jem standing outside a door. When Magnus approached them, they looked up.

"Charlotte threw Henry out," Said Jem. "She said she couldn't cope with giving birth and a panicked husband at the same time," Magnus grinned at this; it sounded very like Charlotte.

"I take it she's alright then?" He asked.

"She's fine," Said Gideon. "Sophie's with her, helping her through it." Magnus nodded and stood outside the door, patiently waiting with James and Gideon for news from within. After a while, Sophie poked her head out of the door. She looked pale and Magnus noticed her hands were shaking. He obviously wasn't the only one to notice this, as Gideon rushed over to her and took her hands in his.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "What's going on?" Sophie let out a shaky breath before replying.

"Could you please go and fetch Henry?" She asked. Jem nodded and went downstairs to get the inventor. He returned a few moments later, Henry in tow.

"What is it?" He asked frantically. "Is everything alright? Is Charlotte -"

"Follow me," Said Sophie, tearing her hands away from Gideon and leading Henry into the room, closing the door behind them. The two Shadowhunters and the warlock exchanged looks of confusion. Inside the room they could hear muffled voices, and then something that sounded very much like sobbing.

They weren't sure how long they stood out there in the corridor waiting, but eventually the door opened. Sophie threw herself into Gideon's arms and a teary-eyed Henry emerged, clutching a tiny, pink baby, with a small tuft of flaming hair covering its head.

"I -" He started, but seemed to choke on the words. "She didn't make it. Charlotte, she...She died in childbirth." Jem gasped and clenched a hand over his mouth. Magnus went numb. It wasn't that he wasn't used to death –he had seen plenty of it over the many years he had been alive– it was that he somehow couldn't imagine Charlotte dead. It just went against everything he knew about her. This couldn't be happening. It _wasn't_ happening.

"I - I've named him," Said Henry, bringing Magnus back from his near-breakdown. Everyone looked up at Henry, waiting for him to announce the name of his new-born son.

"Christopher," He said. "Christopher Granville Fairchild."

* * *

When Magnus returned home that evening, Simon was sitting on the sofa, staring into space with a shell-shocked expression on his face. He looked up and he and Magnus exchanged a brief glance, before Magnus tore his eyes away from the vampire's and headed upstairs. He opened the door to his and Woolsey's bedroom and went to lie down on the bed without undressing, without even getting under the covers. He just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had just happened.


	12. Chapter 12

**May 1879**

Ever since Charlotte's death, Simon's walks had gotten longer, sometimes lasting more than three hours. When he wasn't walking aimlessly around London, he spent most of his time in his bedroom, lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, or spend hours on end staring at the black-and-white photograph that had been taken on that night in Hyde Park. Everyone looked so happy, so carefree. It had been a long time since he had seen Henry smile like that. In fact, it had been a long time since he had seen Henry at all. He had come to visit them a few times since Christopher's birth, but spent most of his time in the Institute, tinkering away at devices and machines.

As it happened, Simon was lying on his bed at that very moment, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, Magnus burst in and pulled him roughly off the bed.

"Ow," Said Simon. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm sick of you moping around. Come on, I'm taking you a place bound to cheer you up," He replied. Simon let out an exasperated sigh, but followed him nonetheless. Magnus led him out the front door and to the green grocer's on the other side of the street.

"What are we doing Magnus?" He asked. Magnus shushed him and led him to the back of the store, to a door Simon knew for a fact hadn't been there before.

"What -" But before Simon could finish is question, Magnus placed a hand on the door and dragged Simon through it as it opened. For a moment, he was blinded by the light. He blinked a few times until he regained his vision. His jaw dropped in surprise. He was standing in a market place. The buildings and houses were brightly coloured, all sky-blues and sunshine-yellows and grass-greens. There were stands lining the streets, selling everything ranging from exotic fruits to rare-looking fabrics to what appeared to be a selection of hands, not all of them entirely human-looking. Somewhere further down the street, Simon could just about hear music of the chatter and laughs of the people.

"Magnus," Said Simon, awe marking his tone. "What _is_ this place?" Magnus grinned at him.

"This, my vampiric friend," He said. "Is Downworld. The Shadowhunters, they have their Idris. What we have is Downworld. Of course, they can't enter without strict invitation, just as we can't enter Alicante without their permission." Simon took in the sight before him again, his eyes shining with amazement and his mouth slightly open. On closer inspection, not a single one of the people he saw was human. The warlocks and faeries were easy to detect; their different physical aspects were easily distinguishable. He could smell the werewolves as well; not unlike wet dog.

"Wow," Was all he could say. Magnus's cat-like grin was spread from ear to ear.

"I told you I was going to cheer you up," He said. "Come on," And with that, Magnus was dragging Simon down the street of bright colours and through the crowd of strange beings.

* * *

Simon wasn't sure how long he and Magnus had been in Downworld; it was impossible to keep track of time there. Magnus had told him that Downworld's location changed nearly every week, making it virtually undetectable to Shadowhunters. Downworlders had no trouble finding the place, Magnus said, if they knew how to look for it. Simon loved every aspect of Downworld and was fascinated by everything he saw. With a sharp pang, he thought of Clary, and how much she would love this place. He tried to take his mind off her, but it seemed his mind had other plans; out of the corner of his eye, he kept glimpsing things like a head of fiery red hair, or a bracelet made of green stones, the exact same colour of her eyes. Everything seemed to remind him of her, even a six-fingered midget named Nigel who tried to convince them to buy half-price 'love-daisies'.

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus saw Simon sigh. Magnus frowned. What was wrong with this boy? Of course, it must be hard being so far away from his friends and family, time-wise, and yes, he was grieving over Charlotte's death, but so was Magnus, in his own, show-no-emotions way.

"Simon," He said. The vampire snapped his head up to look at Magnus. "Would you like to get a drink?" He asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of a pub they had walked past not two minutes ago, _The Mermaid's Drink_, if Magnus recalled correctly. Simon shrugged.

"Sure," He said. They walked back to The Mermaid's Drink and opened the heavy wooden door. It was nicely cool inside and was completely empty. Magnus and Simon sat down at one of the tables, not too far from the bar. A woman walked out from behind the bar to serve them. She had caramel-coloured skin and round, completely orange eyes with no pupil or white showing. Her hair was a mass of wild, shockingly purple curls, and two iridescent butterfly wings stuck out of her back. It was blatantly obvious that she was a faerie of some kind.

"Hello," She said, in a voice that sounded like wind chimes. "My name is Mirabel. Can I get you anything?" She asked.

"A glass of honeydew cordial, if you have any," Said Magnus. Mirabel nodded.

"And for you sir?" She asked Simon, who was still transfixed by her bizarre appearance. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"He'll have a glass of blood. Fresh, if possible," Said Magnus. Mirabel nodded again.

"Very well," She said. "I'll have Irving bring you that in a minute," She left, heading through a door behind the bar.

"She was very...strange." Said Simon. Magnus grinned at him.

"Get used to it," He said. "In the Mundane world, you don't see so many of us all together at once, and someone like Mirabel would have to use a very powerful and exhausting glamour to keep up a less...shocking appearance." Simon nodded in understanding, and before he could say anything else, a man placed two glasses on the table in front of them.

"Hiya," He said. Simon had to keep himself from staring. The man was dark-skinned and his hair fell in shoulder-length dreadlocks around his face. His face was marred by three long scars, tingeing his dark skin pink and twisting his facial features at odd angles. He noticed Simon looking at him and his cheeks darkened; the man obviously didn't like people staring at him and Simon couldn't blame him.

"Sorry," Said Simon, abashed.

"It's fine," Said the man, Irving, Simon vaguely remembered Mirabel saying. He gave Simon a small twisted smile before leaving them to drink their beverages. When he was out of earshot, Magnus turned to Simon.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to stare?" He asked. Simon glared at him and took a sip from his cup of blood, saying nothing in return.

They spent the rest of their time there in silence; Simon wasn't really in the mood for conversation. After a while a group of rowdy Downworlders entered the pub, hooting and laughing loudly. They sat down at a table, kicking their muddy boots up on the table tops. Simon looked over to Irving, who was cleaning the bar with a dishcloth of some kind, and saw his left eye twitch, almost imperceptibly.

Mirabel went over to take their order and was greeted by wolf-whistles and one or two crass remarks. Simon could practically _hear _Irving's teeth grinding from where he was sitting. Mirabel didn't take notice of their behaviour and took their order with a pleasant smile. When she turned to leave though, one of the men –a fey by the looks of things– pinched her bum.

"That's it!" Roared Irving. "Out! Get out!" The fey looked mildly surprised and slightly amused by Irving's outburst. "You do _not_ touch my wife!" The fey raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"What are you going to do about it, dog?" He asked. Irving let out a snarl and threw himself over the bar and towards the table with more speed or force than Simon had thought him capable of. Before he could make contact with them however, a woman descended the stairs beside the bar. She was beautiful, no question about it. She had long, ebony hair and piercing blue eyes. Two large, black cat ears were perched atop her head and Simon thought he saw a tail swishing back and forth behind her.

"Irving, stop," She said. Irving froze, seeming to come to his senses. "They are not worth it,"

"Taking orders from a woman now?" Said the rowdy fey. A few of his friends paled and looked uneasy, as if he had made some kind of mistake, or crossed some kind of line. "How _pathetic_," Said the fey with venom. The woman turned to him and gave him a glare so icy it made Antarctica look like a summer holiday destination.

"And you, sir," She said, her voice strangely calm. "Please leave my property at once. If you return, you will be very sorry indeed." The others made to leave but the cocky fey ushered them back into their seats.

"Oh yeah?" He said. "And who are you to tell me what to do?"

"My name sir, is Taith Manners," she said. The fey visibly paled and seemed to choke on his own spit. Simon didn't know who Taith Manners was, but deduced that she must have been pretty important around there; even Magnus looked impressed.

"Now please, kindly vacate my premises, _immediately_," She accentuated her sentence by allowing green sparks to dance through her fingers.

"O-of course," Said the fey, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to leave. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise." And with that, he opened the door, and he and his friends were gone.

"What an unpleasant person," Said Magnus, breaking the silence that had overcome the room. "And I have to say, the green sparks? Nice touch." Taith turned to grin at him.

"Why thank you, Magnus Bane," She said. Magnus only seemed mildly surprised that she knew his name. "I think that we shall join you and Simon for a drink," Simon wanted to ask how she knew his name, but to be honest, he was absolutely terrified of her.

* * *

They spent the rest of the night talking and trading stories with the three others and when Simon and Magnus got home that night, Simon realised something. Not only had he discovered a place where he felt completely at ease and at home, he had also found three new friends in Irving, Mirabel and Taith.


	13. Chapter 13

**August 1879**

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of Miss Sophie Collins and Mr Gideon Lightwood._

Simon turned the small piece of card over in his fingers as he waited. Beside him, Magnus and Woolsey were quite blatantly flirting, running their hands over each other's thighs and whispering things in each other's ears. Simon had a strong feeling they weren't discussing the weather. Across the aisle Cecily was refusing to look anywhere near his direction. Will, exceptionally, was sitting next to her rather than Tessa, and was holding tiny Christopher in his arms, bouncing him around and making silly noises. Behind the two Herondales sat Cyril and Bridget. Tessa was seated directly behind Simon, with Gideon's sister, Tatiana, on one side and Jem on the other. Gideon was standing at the head of the aisle, beside the priest, nervously picking at the cuff of his sleeve

Suddenly, the organist started playing a tune and the doors opened. Everyone stood and turned to face the two people making their way down the aisle. Sophie, looking beautiful in a long white gown, was blushing profusely as everyone present watched her. Her arm was encircled with Henry's and she seemed to be clutching to him for dear life. Henry placed a reassuring hand on hers and gave her a warm smile. Gideon's nerves seemed to have disappeared and he was now standing frozen, in complete awe of his soon-to-be-wife's beauty.

As they reached the head of the aisle, Henry released Sophie's arm and went to sit by Will, taking his son into his arms. For a moment, Sophie and Gideon just stared into each other's eyes, each taking in the other. The priest cleared his throat awkwardly and the two let out small laughs. Gideon took Sophie's hand in his as the priest began speaking.

The ceremony was beautiful, and everything was executed perfectly, apart from the when the moment for the rings came. Henry had been confided them and, for a moment, was afraid he had lost them. He searched his pockets frantically, before Will handed them to him, reminding him that the previous night, Henry had come to his room and asked him to look after them as he was afraid to lose them. Everyone laughed at that and the ceremony continued. When Sophie and Gideon kissed, Simon felt sure that he had never seen two people happier in his entire life.

* * *

After the ceremony, the guests retired to Simon and Magnus' house for the after party, where cake was served and gifts were presented to the newlywed couple. After a while, when things had calmed down a bit and they had all separated into various groups, Simon made his way over to Gideon, whose arms were wrapped lightly around Sophie's waist.

"Excuse me," He said. They both looked up. "Could you come with me for a second?" He asked. They exchanged confused looks, but nodded, and followed him through to the kitchen. On his way to the door, Magnus shot him a quizzical expression, which Simon replied to with an _'I'll explain later' _look.

Simon closed the kitchen door behind them before turning to face Gideon and Sophie. From the expressions on their faces, Simon could tell they were genuinely afraid that he had dragged them in here to maim and kill them. The very thought of how ridiculous and far from the truth that was made him smile. Which probably wasn't a good idea, as they had no idea why he was grinning to himself, and probably made him look even more like a psycho.

"So, um," He said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I brought you guys in here to give you your wedding present. I didn't want to do it in front of everyone; it would have brought up too many questions." Gideon frowned and held Sophie closer to him, a protective gesture.

"Please tell me your gift to us is not eternal life," He said. Simon let out an involuntary snort, and immediately their expressions lightened.

"Don't worry," He said. "Immortality is far from a gift, ask anyone who's been around more than a few decades. It gets really old, really fast."

"Then what is it?" Asked Sophie. Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out the large ruby pendant that Camille had given to him several months ago. Gideon's eyes widened and Sophie let out a small gasp. As he handed it over to the couple they stared in awe, their eyes flitting from the pendant to Simon and back again.

"D-do you want us to hold this while you go get our present?" Asked Sophie. Simon laughed.

"No," He took Sophie's hand, placed the pendant in it and curled her fingers closed around it. "_This_ is my present to you,"

"I -" Sophie started, but her voice stuttered and her words got lost on the way to her mouth.

"Thank you," Said Gideon sincerely, looking Simon straight in the eyes brown meeting green. Simon smiled.

"I do have one condition however," He said. The couple looked up at him.

"Of course," Said Sophie. "Whatever you want Simon, really, anything,"

"Well, unless it's our first child." Said Gideon jokingly. Then a dark shadow crossed his face and his expression became deadly serious. "It's not, right?" Simon laughed.

"Of course not," He said. "No, my one condition is actually quite simple; I want it to stay in the Lightwood family," Sophie and Gideon exchanged surprised looks, as if wondering whether or not Simon was being serious.

"Really?" Asked Sophie tentatively, as though Simon would suddenly burst out laughing shouting, '_Ha! Had you fooled there for a second, didn't I?_'

"Really," He said. Sophie pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you," She said. Simon hugged her back. When she released him, Gideon came over and shook Simon's hand.

"I promise to respect your wishes," He said. Simon nodded gratifyingly and gave him a small smile.

"Go on then," He said. "Get back to your party." The two returned to the living room, but not before thanking Simon at least a dozen more times and pulling him into impromptu hugs. When they were gone, Simon unscrewed the cap of a bottle of blood and leaned against the kitchen counter. He sipped absently at the liquid, secure in the knowledge that this wouldn't be the last time he saw the ruby pendant. And he had a funny feeling that the next time he saw it, it would be around the neck of the beautiful Isabelle Lightwood.


	14. Chapter 14

**November 1879**

It had been a week and Simon still had no idea what he was supposed to do. Magnus had barely left his room, and when he did, it was to use the bathroom, never to wash or eat. Simon had considered making him something and bringing it to him, but since he hadn't actually eaten food in about two years and had no clue what Magnus did and did not like to eat, he decided against it. Even Tessa had been at a loss at how to help Magnus, and she had spent nearly three hours in his room trying to convince him to take a bath.

It wasn't like Magnus was the only one affected by Woolsey's death after all, but Simon supposed it was different for them; they hadn't been sleeping with him. Or so he assumed. He hoped. God, he prayed no one else had been sleeping with Woolsey. He pushed those thoughts aside, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. Woolsey had been brutally murdered eight days before by a pack of werewolves that didn't agree with his beliefs. When the news had reached Magnus, he had shown next to no reaction. He had thanked the young werewolf that had stopped by for informing him, had closed the front door, and had gone to make a cup of tea. A few hours later he had gone up to his bedroom and had been there ever since. Simon was starting to worry. He knew warlocks were supposed to be immortal, unless they were killed of course, but did that immortality extend to starvation? He let out a frustrated sigh. He still had no idea what he was supposed to do.

A knock at the door stirred him from his thoughts. He went to open it and found himself standing face to face with the last person on earth he could possibly have expected to be: Cecily Herondale.

"Uh..." Simon struggled to find words. "Ce-Cecily?" Simon wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was expecting exactly, but he sure as hell wasn't expecting what happened next.

"Good day Simon," Said Cecily, giving him a pleasant smile.

"Hi?" Simon replied, still not entirely sure if what was happening was real.

"You'll have to excuse me for not warning you in advance but it was quite a last minute decision," She said.

"Uh, sure, no problem," Said Simon.

"It's just that I heard about what happened to Magnus, and I thought I might come by and have a word with him. I was in the area and I happen to know a thing or two about heartache." Those last words hit Simon like a tonne of bricks.

"Cecily, I'm so -" He began, but was cut off by Cecily.

"Really Simon, it's fine, water long under the bridge." Simon frowned, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

"O-okay then," He said hesitantly.

"Great," Said Cecily, as she made her way past Simon, heading up the stairs toward Magnus' room. Simon was left standing in the doorway, his mouth slightly open, blinking in confusion at what had just happened. When he had somewhat recovered, he closed the door and went to sit on the couch.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there waiting; all he knew was that it made him uncomfortable not knowing what Cecily and Magnus were talking about. After roughly half an hour, Cecily descended the stairs. Simon shot out of his seat and went to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well?" He asked. She gave him a kind smile.

"He should be down soon, he's taking a bath." She said. Simon's eyes almost bugged out of his head. What had she said to convince him?

"What did you say to convince him?" She smiled again. She seemed to be doing that a lot recently. Simon wasn't sure what to make of it.

"If he wishes to tell you, he shall tell you," She said.

"Right..." Said Simon. He struggled to find something to say. "Would you like some tea?" He asked, purely to be polite. That and he knew how much these English people seemed to like tea.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Said Cecily. "I already have plans for luncheon. With my fiancé." Simon felt as though he had been slapped in the face by the Hulk.

"Well, that's...great." He said lamely, trying not to let how crushed he felt show.

"Isn't it?" Said Cecily, beaming. "I really must go. Goodbye Simon. It's been fun chatting." And with that she left the house and slammed the door behind her. Simon made his way back to the sofa, completely shell-shocked.

* * *

Two hours later –because yes, it took Magnus two whole hours to get back to his usual _'fabulous'_ self– Magnus descended the stairs.

"Ah, Sandra," He said as he caught sight of the vampire sitting on the sofa. "I'm glad I caught you. I've been thinking, and I've come to a decision. London has become rather tedious, and I think its time we moved on, don't you?" When Simon didn't answer, merely stared at him as though he were a deranged, rainbow-coloured bison dancing the cancan, he continued. "In fact, _England_ has become quite tedious. What are your opinions of Paris?" It took Simon a few minutes to register what Magnus had just said before he answered.

"You want to move to Paris?" He asked slowly. Magnus, who had been straightening his cravat as he looked in an ornate mirror above the fireplace, rolled his eyes.

"Well done Sherwin, you can understand basic English." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you sure about this?" Asked Simon, ignoring Magnus' comment. Magnus sighed.

"I've actually been thinking about this for a while. I mean, you told me you had never seen anywhere outside of the United States before you came here, and I don't like staying in one place for too long -it gets horrible having to watch things change while you remain the same. And in light of recent...events, I've decided that it would be for the best." He looked down for a second, lost in thought. Simon wanted to say something comforting and reassuring, but had no idea how to go about it. He wasn't really the comforting type. Before he could say anything, Magnus had started talking again. "You don't have to come with me of course, but I did make a promise to make sure you got back to your era, and while I'm sure it would be difficult for an indestructible vampire to die, I would feel much better knowing or certain that you were alive, something that would be much harder while residing in another country."

"Of course I'll come with you, it just took me by surprise is all." Said Simon. Magnus broke into a grin.

"Great!" He exclaimed. "Start packing, we leave at dawn!"

* * *

**So over the next, say, 20 years, Magnus and Simon are going to be travelling across Europe. I already have a few plans for them, but if you have any ideas I'd love to hear them :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks to FunkyMadOne for inspiring this :)**

* * *

**Paris, 1880 [part 1]**

Paris is alright, Simon supposes. It's got nothing on London, and doesn't even come close to New York, but maybe Simon's just biased. He will give Paris one thing, it's given him time to perfect his broody, depressed look during his increasingly long walks. And Magnus is hardly ever around. That's a plus, he guesses. Although he wouldn't mind someone to talk to. The only people he has contact with, other than his absentee room mate, are the old hunchbacked man, whose book store they live above and the local shady butcher who supplies him with blood. Every now and then he'll get letters from Will and Tessa, and sometimes even Henry, who update him on their lives in England. He never knows quite how to feel when he receives their letters. On the one hand, it means there are people out there who actually care about him, who miss him. On the other, it's just a constant reminder that he's not with them, that he's all alone. And yeah, maybe he's being melodramatic, but he really does feel isolated and completely, utterly alone.

His walks have become so long now that they consume almost all of his waking time. When he's not walking, he's reading. The book store has a few books in English, and Magnus seems to travel with a mobile library, and Simon's basic grasp of French has developed over their stay, so he occasionally tries to stumble his way through a few lines of Rimbaud (even though he's not the biggest fan of poetry, he has to admit that it's better than Eric's, which isn't really that hard to accomplish, but is does pass the time).

The day he met Caroline, Simon was taking a walk down by the Seine. It was cloudy and grey, and he had a feeling it was about to start raining. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his shoulders hunched up, his expression morose. He was thinking of Clary, which was never a good way to raise his spirits. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking, and collided with a woman. She was tall and regal-looking. Her eyes were sea-green, her blonde hair pulled back by pins. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as Simon's, and it didn't look as though it was achieved by wearing powder.

"Sorry," He said, forgetting that he was in a country where people didn't speak English. To his surprise though, the woman replied.

"But you are English!" She sounded delighted, as if discovering a rare piece of art.

"Uh, technically American, but yeah." Replied Simon.

"Zat iz marvellous!" She said. Like all French-speakers with a rudimentary grasp of English, her R's were hard and all the syllables were exaggerated.

"It is?" Simon asked hesitantly.

"But of course!" She exclaimed.

"Right, well..." Simon said, trying to push his way past the woman – he wasn't in the mood for conversation right now. She stopped him by grabbing his upper-arm, encasing it with her fingers in a vice-like grip. Much stronger than any human woman would have been able to achieve. He tried pulling his arm away and her grip tightened.

"Don't worry," She said, a small smile creeping its way on to her face. "I would not 'urt you; we are jus' alike." Simon was about to reply with a 'Lady, you have no idea how wrong you are,' when her features started to change: her eyes darkened and her teeth sharpened and pointed into fangs.

"You're a vampire," Said Simon in a hushed tone. Her smile widened.

"You may call me Caroline." She said. "I can jus' tell we will become ze best of friends."

* * *

_**6 weeks later**_

Magnus had gotten back late last night. Or maybe it had been early this morning, Simon hadn't really been paying attention. Whatever time he had gotten back, Simon knew there was no chance of him waking up any time soon. He had scribbled a quick note on a random piece of paper (that he may or may not have torn out of a limited edition of Voltaire's _Candide_ in his haste) stating that he was going out, and wouldn't be back for a while.

He donned his jacket and left the shared top floor of the book store they used as an apartment. As he descended into the shop, he almost ran over the old hunchback.

"Going out?" He asked in his basic English. His voice wheezed unpleasantly. Simon nodded.

"Meeting Caroline." He said. The old man leered and gave him what Simon guessed was supposed to be a wink, though it looked more like a facial spasm.

"C'est quand le mariage?" He asked amusedly. Simon's grasp of French had improved over the weeks, and he understood enough to know what the old man was insinuating. He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up old man." He said. "I don't like Caroline like that."

"Sure." Said the old hunchback. "In zat case, tell 'er she 'as an admirer." Simon snorted, then shuddered imagining Caroline and the old book shop owner together.

"I'm leaving now." Said Simon, resolutely not looking in his direction. He heard the wheezing, hacking cough that was the old man's laugh behind him.

"Amusez-vous bien les enfants." Simon slammed the door shut behind him, cutting off the sound of his laughter. He walked down the damp streets, the skies grey and clouded. He was meeting Caroline at her incredibly extravagant house which was about a ten-minute walk away from where they had first met by the Seine.

Almost as soon as he knocked on the door, it was opened to reveal one of Caroline's subjugates, Carlos. He inclined his head politely and allowed Simon to pass.

"You shall find my mistress in the parlour. She is awaiting you." He said in fluent English.

"Thanks." Said Simon before heading off in the direction of the parlour. He opened the door and found Caroline sipping tea in an armchair. Her hair was let down and she was dressed in what Simon knew she considered 'plain' clothes (that others could only dream of wearing).

"Simon. 'ow delightful." She said, smiling up at him. Simon returned her smile and took a seat next to her.

"How're things?" He asked. Caroline shrugged delicately and placed her teacup on its saucer on the coffee table.

"Zings are well." She said. "And wiz you? How are zings wiz your warlock friend?" Simon shrugged as well.

"Alright I guess. I haven't seen him for about a week." Caroline gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You need to socialize more." She said. Simon snorted. "I mean it. It can't be good for you. Soon, you shall become an 'ermit living in a cave." He considered her words for a moment.

"Well what would you suggest? I join the local book club?"

"Not ze book club, but per'aps anozer kind of club..." She said hesitantly. Simon gave her a sideways glance.

"What are you suggesting?" He asked. Caroline, for the first time since Simon had known her, looked anxious. She bit her lower lip before answering.

"My clan is 'aving a meeting tonight. Maybe you could...accompany me?" This immediately sounded like a bad idea to Simon. The last time he had gotten involved with a vampire clan, he had almost been killed.

"Caroline -"

"Jus' to see what it is we do. You don't even 'ave to come back, jus' visit one time. Please?" The pleading look in her eyes was making Simon's resolve crumble. He let out a sigh.

"Fine." He said. Caroline beamed at him.

* * *

Simon shuffled uneasily from foot to foot as Caroline knocked three times on the dark, heavy wood of the door. He still wasn't sure how he felt about this. Sure, he trusted Caroline, she could even be counted among his closest friends, but he had always been wary of other members of their species - they couldn't be trusted. In fact, Simon hadn't interacted with any Downworlders apart from Magnus (and he hardly counted these days) and Caroline. He had seen Mirabel and Irving briefly when Downworld had passed through Paris a few months ago, but no word since. Simon suddenly realised how anti-social he had become. Maybe Caroline was right, it would be good to meet new people. Besides, it wasn't like they were going to force him to join the clan, they just wanted to meet him. After a few minutes, the door was opened and a head poked out. He was skinny, with high cheekbones and a pencil moustache. He looked at Simon suspiciously before turning his attention to Caroline. The two exchanged words in rapid French - too fast for Simon to even begin to comprehend. They went silent for a moment, and Caroline seemed to be threatening the slight man with her eyes. Eventually the slim man sighed in defeat and opened the door wider, allowing them to pass. Caroline gave Simon a reassuring smile as they entered the house. He tried to respond in kind, but his smile resembled a grimace more than anything due to his sudden case of extreme nerves.

The skinny man closed the door behind them and took Caroline's unnecessary jacket, giving Simon a disdainful look before leading them down the long hallway. There were paintings on the walls of wealthy-looking men and women. Simon glanced at them all as he passed them and came to a sudden stop when he reached the last, and largest painting. It depicted a young couple, both completely enamored with each other. The man, his dark brown hair swept back haphazardly, was looking down at the woman in his arms with shining blue eyes. The woman was undeniably_ beautiful_. Her eyes were almond shaped and hinted at Asian origins, but were a vivid emerald green. Her facial features were delicate - a small button nose and a heart-shaped mouth. Her blonde hair was braided in a long plait that reached her waist. They were both dressed plainly - he in a simple white shirt and black trousers, she in a black silk gown. Caroline noticed Simon's sudden halt and walked back to stand beside him.

"Beautiful, are zey not?" She asked.

"Yeah." Replied Simon, still completely enraptured by the painting. "Who are they?" He asked.

"She was a vampire princess. 'e was 'er mortal lover. Sometimes zey are called ze cursed lovers." She said, a faraway look taking over her.

"Vampire princess? We have vampire royalty?" Asked Simon incredulously. Caroline smirked a little at the expression on his face.

"Not for a long time." She said. "Due in part to 'ow zeir story finished." She nodded to the painting of cursed lovers.

"What happened?" He asked. A sad smile took over Caroline's face, and she looked away from the painting, focusing on the carpeted floor.

"Per'aps I shall tell you anozer time." She said. From the look on her face, Simon knew not to press the issue.

"Okay." He said softly, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she shot him a grateful smile. Then, she took a deep breath and composed herself, before looping her arm through Simon's and pushing the door at the end of the hallway.

Inside the room, many people were strewn over couches and armchairs, all chatting away amicably. They were all very pale, and all very good-looking. They came to a complete silence when they caught sight of Caroline and Simon in the doorway. For a moment no one moved, then one of the vampires, who had been sitting on an armchair with scantily-dressed woman in his lap, stood up and made his way over to them. He was broad-shouldered and towered over them. Simon gulped. The man raised an unimpressed eyebrow before turning his attention to Caroline.

"Vincent." Said Caroline, obviously not scared in the slightest by the imposing man.

"Caroline." Replied the man. Then he broke into a grin, and pulled both Simon and Caroline into bone-crushing hugs. "Bienvenu!" He said cheerily. The tension in the room was broken, and the chatter resumed.

* * *

A few hours passed, and Simon was slowly growing used to the clan's atmosphere. They, like all vampires it seemed, had a slightly macabre sense of humour and could be quite vulgar at times, but were pretty accepting, and were fun to be around, once you got used to them. Simon had been talking with a man called Michel and his sister Ophelie for the past twenty minutes, and it hadn't been as bad as he had anticipated. He looked over to Caroline, who smiled encouragingly. Vincent appeared at her shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Caroline nodded slowly, looking slightly confused and left the room, giving Simon a reassuring look before the door closed behind her.

Halfway through the conversation, Ophelie had offered Simon a glass of wine, and Simon had accepted, out of politeness. Now, a few sips later, he was feeling strangely drowsy. He knew he had to be a complete lightweight, but was a few sips really enough to affect him? Surely not. He looked up at Michel and Ophelie, trying to focus on them as they spoke, but their faces were growing blurry. He rubbed at his eyes to no avail. His vision darkened. He was going to pass out, he could feel it.

"Help...me..." He said to Michel and Ophelie, who made no move to help him, and smiled cruelly instead. Simon fell to the floor. A pair of boots appeared, followed by Vincent's face.

"We 'ave you now, Daylighter." He said, a grin twisting his face. And then, everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys, here's the next chapter :)**

**There's a long A/N at the bottom, I'd appreciate it if you read it.**

* * *

**Paris, 1880 [part 2****]**

Simon awoke in a dark, dank room. There were a few candles strewn around the room, their wax dripping, their light casting twisted shadows on the walls. Simon was grateful the light wasn't very bright; his head was throbbing like mad, almost as if his brain were about to explode. He lifted his head slowly, squinting in the gloom. He could just about make out some hazy silhouettes standing in a semi-circle around him. They stood silently, watching him. He couldn't make out their faces. Simon opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the only sound that came out was a creaky noise. He cleared his throat – which felt like sandpaper was scraping his vocal chords – and tried again.

"What –" His tongue was like a lead weight, heavy in his mouth, making it hard to speak properly. Before he could voice his question, he was cut off by a harsh, "Shh!" and a cold finger pressed against his lips. Then, one of the cloaked figures started chanting in what sounded like an old, long-forgotten language. Something about the whole situation struck Simon as strange, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly. It played on the edge of his mind, tickled the surface of his thoughts, until, finally, something clicked, and he remembered. He remembered everything, Caroline, the clan meeting and the spiked wine. And he remembered that people standing around you in a barely-lit room, chanting things in an incomprehensible language can never be a good thing. He tried to get to his feet, but was pushed back by something hard and solid, maybe someone's arm, though his brain was too muddled to tell. A feeling of panic surged through him, and fear twisted in his stomach.

But when the chanting came to a stop, all those feelings were washed away, and replaced by a strange, soothing peace. One of the cloaked figures broke away from the rest, and crouched down in front of him. Even up close, Simon couldn't make out their features – his vision was blurry.

"Simon?" Asked a voice. He couldn't even tell if it was male or female. He made an affirmative noise and looked at the person with glazed eyes. "If I ask you to do somesing, zen you will do it, yes? Wizout quetioning it? Wizout 'esitating?" Simon nodded mutely. "Very good." The silhouette reached into its pocket, and drew out something long and sharp and silvery. A knife. "Simon," Said the figure, pressing the knife into Simon's limp hand. The figure leaned in and whispered the orders into Simon's ear. "Can you do zat?" The person asks.

"Of course." Replied Simon, his voice monotone. His grip tightened on the knife. Without questioning it whatsoever, he plunged the knife into the soft flesh of his forearm.

* * *

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Simon awoke in a dark, poorly lit room. It wasn't the same as the previous one; this one was smaller, grimier, and smelt of mold and asbestos. All he could hear was a faint _drip drip drip_ sound. Simon's hands were raised above his head and ached like hell. He could feel something cold and harsh biting into his wrists. Manacles, he realised after a little thought. Something sticky was covering his arms and chest. He looked down, and became aware of three things. The first, was that he was shirtless. The second, that there was a pail of red liquid directly beneath him. The third, that his blood, running from the gauges in his arms and down his chest, was the source of the dripping sound, and the red liquid in the pail.

He felt panic bubbling up inside him, but pushed it back down and forced himself to approach the situation rationally. It was obvious that the clan somehow knew about his Daylighter blood. And the Mark of Cain. They wanted to get their hands on his blood, without facing the punishment of the mark. The chanting must have been some kind of obedience spell. So, if under the control of psychotic French vampires, Simon decided to slice his arm open, the mark would be rendered useless, unable to take vengeance on its wearer. Pretty smart, Simon had to admit. One question remained. How had they known about him? Only two people from this era who knew were Magnus and –

"Caroline." He croaked out. Of course. How could he have been so stupid? A figure emerged from the darkness. Dressed in white satin, Caroline stood out harshly in the gloom.

"I was waiting for you to wake." She said, approaching him with a small smile. Simon thought he could glimpse the barest trace of regret or apology in the smile, but maybe he imagined it. He was, after all, seriously light-headed from the lack of blood. When they were finally face to face, neither of them spoke. They simply stared. Simon tried to throw as much emotion as he could into his glare – the sting of betrayal, the disbelief, the anger. Finally, when he could no longer stand to look at her, he spoke.

"Why?" He demanded. The taste of his own blood was strong on his tongue. Caroline shrugged elegantly, bored.

"It would 'ave been a waste, for one so young and inexperienced to be ze sole owner of such a gift." Simon snorted.

"And you couldn't think of an easier way to get it? Did _asking_ me ever cross your mind?" Caroline shot him a disbelieving look.

"You would 'ave said yes?" She asked. Simon hesitated. Apparently, that was answer enough. "Exactly." They fell silent again. A trickle of blood ran down his chest and into the bucket, landing with a sickening _drip_.

"Am I –" Simon's question was broken off halfway as he started coughing erratically. Flecks of blood escaped his lips. "Is this it then?" He finally managed to get out. "You're just gonna let me die?" Caroline shrugged again.

"Zat was ze idea, yes." She said, before turning to leave. Simon coughed up more blood.

"Bitch." He managed to choke out between coughs, his voice trembling from the effort. The insult had no bite in it, no venom – he didn't have enough energy for that. Caroline turned to face him, grinning, and winked before leaving Simon alone in the dark room. Leaving him to die.

He didn't last much longer after that. The conversation had drained him of all his remaining energy. He let himself be lulled back into the obscure darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

The noise was what woke Simon for the third time. Screaming, shouting, hissing, and something that sounded like gunfire. Simon just wished whoever it was would keep it down – he'd rather die in peace and quiet, not with a splitting headache.

When the noise did finally come to a stop, he let out a sigh of relief. The silence was short-lived however, as the doors were smashed open, splinters flying everywhere, someone shouting his name, over and over. Simon lifted his head slowly, opened his eyes blearily. A tall, thin figure rushed over to him, and lifted his head up higher.

"Simon!" A distinctively male and familiar voice shouted. "Oh Lilith, what did they _do_ to you?" His voice was much too loud for Simon's liking, and the vampire winced, unable to actually voice his discomfort. He could feel fingers at his wrists, hear words muttered, and the shackles burst open. Simon toppled forward, unable to support his own weight. The skinny man caught him and slowly eased him to the floor. More words were muttered and a sudden feeling of warmth passed through Simon. His skin tingled and goosebumps rose. A surge of energy passed through him, and he shot up, gasping for unneeded air. He looked around, wide-eyed.

"Magnus?" He exclaimed, his throat still sore. Magnus let out a small sigh of relief, that was almost instantly replaced with a fierce glare.

"What were you _thinking_? Idiot!" He hissed. Simon ignored him.

"You...Saved my life. Thank you." He said earnestly. Magnus rolled his amber, cat-like eyes.

"Oh, please, don't get all emotional. I promised to get you back to your own time, didn't I? I keep my promises. No matter how hard you make it." He said bitterly. Simon grinned.

"Whatever you say, Sparkles. I saw how worried you were when you burst in there, warlock powers a-blazin'. You care about me, admit it." He poked Magnus, who turned away pointedly and crossed his arms.

"Shut up." He said through gritted teeth.

"Aw, you care about whether I live or die, that's so sweet!" Simon pretended to coo.

"I said shut up, you sorry excuse for a vampire. I've got half a mind to make you kill yourself myself." Magnus snapped, getting to his feet and walking to the door. Simon got to his feet, wincing at the pain that surged in every inch of his body, and limped over to Magnus, who watched him with a pitying look, and made no move to help him. Simon rolled his eyes and grabbed the warlock's arm, forcing himself upon him. Magnus grudgingly threw and arm around his waist to support him. The two stumbled out of the house, which was surprisingly empty.

"What happened to them all?" Asked Simon, his voice slightly hoarse.

"I sent them to one of the hell dimensions." Magnus replied casually, as if the two were discussing the weather. Simon stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at him bug-eyed, once his brain caught up with the words.

"You did _what_?" He managed to splutter out. Magnus waved a hand airily.

"It's not that much of a deal." He said nonchalantly, but Simon could already see the lines of exhaustion etching themselves into his face, the tiredness in his tone. Simon felt a lump form in his throat, and forgot momentarily that this was the longest they had been in each other's company in months. The moment was ruined when Magnus said, "Seriously Simon, what were you thinking? I know you can be a bit dimwitted at times, but I would have thought that even you would have been smart enough to discern a poorly disguised trap."

"Well, you obviously thought wrong, didn't you?" He snapped, worn out, tired, sore, and in dire need of a bed.

"Clearly." Replied Magnus with a snort. The walked in silence for a while, by the grey water of the Seine. The sky was pink and raw, the sun barely visible above the horizon.

"It's your fault anyway." Said Simon. Surprised by the sudden, unexpected sound, Magnus jumped, and accidentally pushed Simon into the wall of a building. Simon let out a small groan and clutched his sore ribs.

"Sorry." Muttered Magnus. "Wait, what do you mean, it's my fault?"

"Well, maybe if you had actually been around _at all_, then you would have there to stop me walking into such an obvious trap, because I'm apparently too stupid to spot one for myself." Magnus came to stop and stared incredulously at Simon.

"Are you actually trying to pin the blame of your idiotic actions on me? Really? You want to know what I was off trying to do all that time? Barely sleeping or eating, mentally and physically draining myself. I was trying to find a way to send you back to your own time, you ungrateful futuristic bastard." Simon's jaw dropped open. He was speechless for a moment.

"I... Magnus, I'm sorry..." He managed to choke out. Magnus waved him off.

"Whatever, it didn't work. Nothing worked, no one knew anything." He sounded so disappointed, that Simon felt obliged to do something to comfort him. He stuck out his hand and patted Magnus on the shoulder. The warlock looked up at him with a mixture of deep confusion, a little fear and slight revulsion. "What are you doing?" He asked nervously. Simon shook himself and removed his hand.

"I don't know. Sorry." Magnus looked at him warily though slanted eyes.

"I'm willing to pretend that never happened if you never tell anyone how much I put myself through for _you_."

"Deal." Said Simon. They nodded briefly, before Magnus grabbed Simon around the waist and they hobbled wearily back home, the pink morning sun casting their shadows on the wall.

* * *

**Okay, firstly, I hope you guys liked that chapter. Let me know what you thought. As always, if you have any suggestions, or want to see something in particular happen, let me know :)**

**Now, on to more important matters. Being the idiot that I am, I have invested myself in too many writing projects, and as a result, have trouble updating regularly [as you may have noticed recently...] What's more, I have exams coming up later in the year, and if I have to juggle revision with writing all these different stories, I'll probably drive myself insane or something. So what I've decided to do is concentrate all my efforts on one story at a a time._ Vacationing in 1878_ is second on my list, and the only reason that it's not first is because the one I've prioritised should be the easiest and fastest to finish.**

**So basically, _Vacationing in 1878_ probably won't be updated for a while, since I want to have a few chapters in reserve when I start posting again, in case I'm unable to write or update one week for some reason. Don't worry, I am absolutely NOT abandoning this fic. **

**Hope to see you soon.**

** - Jem XO**


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